Secrets

Rose Finley races her gray Chrysler 300 she nicknamed Bertha across the strip and screeches into a parking spot next to a black van. She notices a G-string hangs from the rearview mirror of the van. Being an FBI agent Rose makes a mental note of that and other things as she races to the dock of the ‘Bacalao’ party boat. She scrambles across the concrete walk and her four-inch heels clink on the metal gangplank as she scurries up the incline. Her shoulder-length scarlet hair flaps in the gusty wind under her navy blue wide-brim hat that she holds down with one hand. Her low-cut matching blue dress with silver spangles glitters in the ten o’clock sun. The dress seems too tight and too formal for her, but at age twenty-eight Rose wants to look sexy and rich, the two things that seem attractive to political party men. But Rose has little interest in politics or romance. She is intent on gathering evidence against Senator Sancho as she approaches the stern of the boat.

The noticeable wind reminds her that even with the sun bright in the morning sky, Hurricane Jezebel is racing toward Cuba and threatening to swing toward Florida. The forecast for Miami is only a lot of rain and wind gusts from the outer bands of Hurricane Jezebel if she takes the predicted path across Cuba.

Despite the imminent stormy weather, Rose wants to get on the ‘Bacalao’. The party boat is about to motor away with the incumbent Florida Senator Hubert Sancho onboard. She normally would have her .38 Glock handgun with her but not today. Rose knows she may be searched and with tight security there, what could go wrong?

Reaching the top of the ramp, she stops in front of a big man blocking the entrance to the party. She admires his tanned biceps that stretch the sleeves of his black shirt that hangs outside his tight black Chinos. Rose shows her straight white teeth that contrast her girlish freckles as she smiles at the man. She wobbles a little on her stiletto heels focusing her green eyes level to the six-foot burly man’s eyes. She pouts at the man and babbles.

“I so hope you will let me onboard. I lost my handwritten invitation to the private party for Senator Sancho but I really want to be at this rally for our man. It’s less than three months until the election and he may not have another party like this in Miami.” She pleads and flashes a smile but the man still blocks her.

“What is your name, Miss?” The man says admiring the beautiful woman standing in front of him. Even with the wind blowing, he senses her pleasant cinnamon perfume and he forces himself not to smile at her.

“Carter, Rose Carter.”

“Your name is not here.” He says after looking at his guest list.

“Yeah, I am a last-minute addition. What is your name sir?”

“Frank ma’am, but you can’t…”

“Well Frank, they probably didn’t have time to put me on the list. I’m having a really hectic day. You see, first I had trouble getting into this dress. It seems too tight even with the built-in bra, don’t you think?” Rose Finley wriggles adjusting the top of her dress and smiles seeing Frank stare at her and tilt his head.

“Then I had trouble finding my checkbook, and I barely made it through traffic in time to get here. You see, I want to give Hubert another contribution in person. So you tall handsome fella, will you let me on?” Her green eyes fix on his but the man remains silent so Rose wobbles and fakes a stumble. As she starts to fall, Frank grabs her. Rose wraps her arms around his waist feeling the hard butt of his concealed handgun. She leans into him and smiles seeing his annoyed look soften.

“Oh, thank you so much, Frank. I could have fallen overboard.”

“Okay, let me look in your purse ma’am.” Frank grunts as he helps Rose stand up. He backs her away before releasing her and taking her purse. His eyes stray to her several times, as he opens her purse and examines the contents. Frank sees an MP3 player and earbuds, lipstick, some pills, a hairbrush, a cell phone, a checkbook, and some cash. He checks the fake ID that shows the name, Rose Carter. Nothing looks threatening to him. Frank returns her purse and waves a metal detector over her body and thinks. Just another gorgeous party doll. The boss will love her! He fakes a smile and waves her onboard.

“Thank you so much, Frank!” Rose smiles at the man and purposely rubs against him as she steps onto the closed-in party deck. She slips through the plastic strips hanging from the entrance to keep the air inside and thinks. Glad I did not bring my gun! Her Glock normally hides in her purse or under her blouse on her waist on any dangerous assignment. She feels even more naked without her bra and her gun, but she laughs and thinks. I’m hardly at risk here. I have one thing to do and then party! What can happen in a crowd of boozed-up political cronies?

Rose stands at the edge of the huge dance floor feeling a cool breeze flow across her face from the air-conditioned room. She sees many couples dancing to the rock music blaring from overhead speakers. Some of the guests are sitting on the perimeter or in the bar area sucking on adult beverages. The women range in age from twentyish like Rose to sixty or older and their clothing ranges from a tube top with shorts to a party dress similar to hers. The men are either wearing shorts with loose flowery shirts or suits. She guesses nearly half of the fifty or more people are dancing. The strong bass beat vibrates her insides as she scans the area, but sees no sign of a newsperson and no Federal employees that she knows of. Rose looks at the huge bar on the port side. She was not able to check out the boat yesterday when she got word of a secret party for Sancho. She saunters toward the starboard side next to the restrooms and sees a room marked private. That’s where I need to go! Rose thinks. She corrects her balance as she feels the boat start to move.

Just after ten o’clock in a brisk wind, the boat sails toward the East and Hubert Sancho stops dancing and snugs up his tie. He shuffles through the crowd to a platform near the stern and motions to cut off the music that has blared since before his supporters came on board.

Senator Hubert Sancho hates being only five feet tall with his lifter shoes on so he stands on a small wood platform near the tail of the boat to peer over the crowd. His weight matches his age at fifty. Even with the breeze from the air conditioner, he wipes sweat off his face with a handkerchief before waving at his cheering supporters.

“My friends welcome to this secret thank you slash fundraiser party! All of my special guests are here now and we will have a great time despite a little turbulence.” Hubert raises his fist to the cheering audience and waits until the people quiet down.

“I must talk politics for a moment. Our campaign is going strong even with this recent dip in the polls. We will crush our opponent and keep the Senate seat thanks to your generous help.” Sancho smiles as the crowd cheers. He talks for a few minutes about his team’s achievements including the massive crowd at his recent rally in Fort Myers, the new ads set for next week, and his denial of the slanderous claims by his opponent, before wrapping up his speech.

“I know I am trailing my opponent but we have some great ads airing tomorrow that will put us back on top.” Sancho waits until the cheering settles again. “I will give an update on our plans and plea for more funds when we are heading back to shore. I know you are worried about the storm, but the Captain assures me if the storm moves toward us he will head back long before Jezebel could hurt us. In the meantime, have fun! The drinks are on the house and I hope all of you generous and mutually beneficial friends enjoy the party! Start the music!” Hubert Sancho smiles as he eases off the platform. He dances and makes his way into the middle of the cheering crowd loosening his tie in-between shaking hands along his way. Then he sees his prospective new donor Rafael Matuso slink out through the plastic strips.

Rafael Matuso, the six-foot-six muscular man looks garish in his tailored black suit and his tan deck shoes. His short black hair is unruffled by the wind as he eases by his man Frank. After pushing through the plastic strips, he leans on the railing at the stern. He turns and smiles seeing Sancho coming to him. Matuso looks back at the wake and the receding shoreline. He takes out a cigarillo and cuffs his gold Zippo against the wind to puff the small cigar to life.

Hubert Sancho rushes toward the rear of the boat. The party invitations went out before Hurricane Jezebel became a possible threat. He tried to delay the party because some of his worried cronies canceled their invitation, but Matuso insisted he hold it as scheduled and meet with him here today. Sancho grudgingly gave in on this, although he feels resentful for taking orders from the man. He expects to reap a big donation for his concession. As Sancho walks toward the rear deck, he sees his PR man Victor Campbell approach him.

Victor being nearly six feet tall leans over and grabs Sancho. He has to semi-hug the shorter man to talk over the music. “This is wrong to befriend Matuso!” Victor speaks into Sancho’s ear careful that no one else is listening. “I told you police arrested him several times for murder, but none of the cases ever made it to trial. Witnesses mysteriously disappear or suddenly die. Just because the public and the media love him for his large charity donations does not mean he is a good man. Please, he is not safe to deal with!” But Victor feels Sancho pry loose and grab his arms.

“You still don’t understand politics Victor. We could lose this election! We must do whatever it takes to win, nothing else matters! I don’t know why Attorney General Bill Medina is so popular and chose to run against me. With Matuso’s money, we can counter blitz his negative ads. I have to do this.” Sancho releases Victor and walks toward the stern.

“This is a bad plan!” Victor shouts but Sancho keeps walking.

Senator Hubert Sancho knows his time in office has done wonders for his personal financial gain. Between unethical deals and payoffs, Hubert has amassed a fortune he hides in an off-shore bank. He only wants to double his cash stash to feel confident retiring. Hubert must keep the cash rolling in so he can retire in the Cayman Islands. He believes he needs one more term to accomplish his goal.

Because the Senator has done so little for the public good over his years in office, the huge number of smaller contributions has tapered off and he must have big money to run ads against his opponent’s allegations of corruption. Hubert has considered other ideas but he likes easy, and Rafael is an easy fix. The man has practically promised Sancho he will be re-elected. Hubert dislikes Matuso knowing the man is part of a crime organization that his office should be fighting, but he needs help. The whole purpose of agreeing to have the party now is to get the huge money he needs from Matuso knowing the man is sure to ask for some big favor. At this point, Hubert is willing to do anything to stay in office. He stops and leans against the rail next to Rafael.

Rafael Matuso looks like a giant standing next to Sancho as he nods and extends his massive hand. He smiles at the man as if Sancho were an underling rather than anyone close to his equal. After shaking hands Rafael turns back toward the churning wake, puffs on his cigarillo, and enjoys the warm August breeze. He reaches inside his suit jacket and discretely hands a thick envelope to Sancho. Matuso breaks the silence, confident that Sancho will be his puppet.

“Take this for you.”

“Thanks.” Sancho peers into the envelope and sees a cashier’s check and a large wad of hundred-dollar bills. “Thank you very much!” Sancho says mentally seeing the hundred-dollar bills going into his personal funds.

“The cash is ten thousand. There will be more my friend.”

“Your cashier’s check is very generous too. It will help fund the ads I have in mind. I am leery of putting the cash into my campaign account though. The snoops will want to know why I didn’t get a traceable check.”

“You understand why I give you the cash? You do not want the money?”

“Oh yes, I do! I will handle it!” Sancho stuffs the envelope in his coat pocket.

“Good, I do much more. I have a plan for us.” Matuso shouts over the music.

“I doubt if I need…”

“Look out this way.” Matuso waves a well-tanned hand pointing toward the shore. “I like to watch the buildings drift out of sight. Once we are in the ocean they will start fading down as if the sea is eating them up.”

“You have a plan?” Sancho stares at Matuso, ignoring the comment.

“Yes, the noise is too much here. We go to a quiet room upfront across the dance floor to talk. This morning Frank checked it for bugs. For now, we watch the ocean eat the land, then we go there.”

“Sure, anything you say.” Sancho tightens his lips, still not used to someone telling him what to do. He stands impatiently with Matuso and stares at the shoreline as he thinks. I do not need a plan from this thug! Then he remembers the ten thousand in his suit pocket and waits.

“We will make a good team Sancho. Like a Hurricane Jezebel, my plan will soon stir the political world!”

As the ‘Bacalao’ steers away from its Miami pier with its loud music and noisy people Rose Finley merges unnoticed into the dancers but she and the dancers stop when the music cuts off and Sancho starts to talk to the crowd. Rose invited herself on the party boat to spy on Senator Hubert Sancho against the orders from her superior Donna Grant. As she hears Sancho talk from the rear of the boat, Rose thinks back.

She recalls Donna telling her. “If the hurricane shifts course and that party boat goes down, I could lose one of my best agents. This Sancho-Matuso thing is only a rumor. There are other more productive things you can work on. Forget it, Rose!” Since the ‘rumor’ about an unannounced Sancho party came from Rose’s mole, she had to check it out herself. Donna never told her to back off investigating the politics of Sancho before. Is Donna really concerned for my safety or what? In the past, she tried catching Sancho getting kickbacks from overpaid contractors among other things but she always lost the trail.

Her gut tells her she did right coming onboard. She knows Matuso is a honcho involved in drug trafficking and other activities, a bad influence on the incumbent Senator from Florida. Today all she needs to do is plant her micro-camcorder in the private room up front, then relax and enjoy the dancing, free food, and booze. She will send the video to Donna after the boat docks. Rose expects to get a figurative gold star for today, even without approval to crash the party. Her boss will have to like the video she records.

She glances out a window and watches the boat sail past Fisher Island. The music starts and Rose sees Hubert Sancho break away from his PR man and rush onto the stern next to Rafael Matuso. Rose dances in place enjoying the music and staring at the two men. She sees Sancho take something from Matuso, probably a bribe. She begins dancing toward the room marked ‘private’ when a handsome man dressed in a dark suit and tie steps in front of her. Smiling, and not wanting to draw attention by ignoring the man she starts dancing with him. At political parties, she knows ‘suits’ like to do things with young women, especially if they are hot and under thirty like Rose is.

“Hello! I’m House Rep. Alan, Alan Duncan. I’m sure you have heard of me.”

“The name sounds familiar.”

“You’re new and cute!” He shouts over the music.

“Yes, I am new. I’m Rose Carter, nice to meet you, Alan.” She feels an attraction to him, noting he is tall, no wedding band, fortyish, dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a movie star smile.

“I’ll be replacing Sancho for the Senate seat when he retires.”

“That’s a bold statement, Alan.” Rose says flustered by his perfect smile.

“It takes good looks, guts, and a thick hide to survive in politics and I have all three. I received great press about my bill for a senior citizens program, and I will step in when he steps down.”

“That’s another bold assumption.” Rose shouts.

“I’m a bold man and I say the man who left a beauty like you alone is a fool. Some bold guy like me might sweep you away from him!” Alan says. Then he sees an angry man approaching from behind her. As he reaches for her hand, he hears Rose mumble.

“Oh um, I um I’m…” Rose feels her face flush. She turns her head not wanting him to see how flustered she is.

“Oh… excuse me.” He leaves as the angry man reaches Rose.

As she stands motionless with the music blasting from the overhead speakers, she snaps back to reality. Rose shakes her head and dances toward the front of the boat. When she reaches the restroom area, she goes to a door marked private. Seeing no one looking her way, she slips inside the private room and closes the door.

All her senses are on alert as she glances around the room. Rose feels an icy cold breeze from the air conditioner vent. With the cabin door shut, the rock music, the shouting, and the laughing all hush. Except for the distant hum of the boat’s engine, there is an eerie silence in the soundproof room. Her nose starts to stuff up from a faint odor of mildew. She sees a driftwood coffee table in front of a tan couch on the starboard side of the room next to a giant three feet high window. The window sprays in enough sunlight so Rose leaves the cabin light off. A bookcase, with half-high brown straps to hold in the books, hangs on the wall over the couch.

Rose is sure Matuso will use this room for a private talk. She walks across the gray and blue carpet with fish designs, her shoes crackle, slightly sticking to the rug with each step. Reaching the couch Rose thinks. No big deal, just plant your camcorder and go explain yourself to Alan Duncan. This could be a great party!

Easing behind the couch, Rose examines the bookrack and finds a perfect gap between two books for her camcorder. She grabs her hairbrush from her purse, opens the hollow handle, and slides out the micro-camcorder. The unit can capture many hours on its microchip memory but she only needs to record at most an hour or two. She turns it on in proximity mode so it records anytime it senses someone close by. Rose discretely wedges the micro-camcorder in place aiming its lens at the middle of the room. “That will do it. Now I can party!” She whispers, happy the camcorder is out of view and recording.

Rose starts to ease around the couch but she hears Sancho talking as the door starts to swing open. Instinctively she drops to the floor behind the couch. The music, chatter, and laugher blast into the room as she thinks. This is a mistake! I should leave! She slips off her hat and lies flat on her back. Rose hears Rafael Matuso start talking while the door is still open.

“As I said, Frank checked this for bugs earlier, so only you hear me talk.”

“What do you want to discuss?” Sancho asks closing the door.

“In the polls, you are behind Attorney General Bill Medina. I take action.”

“I know I am behind Medina. We are already taking action. He has no solid proof of corruption in my organization and our new ads deny all his claims and accuse him of making up lies. I will use your campaign money to increase our TV spots.”

Rose breathes as quietly as she can. The musty odor from the rug causes her nose to itch so she squeezes it to kill the tingling. Then thinking they may find her, she takes out her MP3 player and earbuds to pretend she is engrossed in music and cannot hear them talking.

“Understand there are no maybes, you must win.” Matuso says.

“Well, I am pretty sure the voting will swing my way.”

“Not good enough Sancho! I have a better plan.”

“I can always use good help. What is your idea?” Sancho tries not to show his contempt. He feels Matuso is telling him what to do again.

“I have a score to settle with Medina and he knows too much about – shall we say your secret deals. He can ruin your chances of winning. He might even put you in jail!”

“How could he? I have been careful to hide things.”

“Late last night I created this plan with Don Ruiz to fix things. I will tell you what we think he knows. Then I will explain what we do to fix that.”

“Who is Don Ruiz?”

“I must clear plans like this with him, Sancho. I tell you so you can prepare a response. Do you know Medina’s girl Friday Sara Troutman is leaving him?”

“Yes, it was on the news last night. Maybe I can use that against him. You know, say he tried to molest her or something.”

“Well, she claims she is too sick and can no longer run his campaign. I created this plan when I heard this. We will use the media to our advantage. We make this into a romance gone bad, a lover’s spat. It gives him a motive and makes perfect my plan!”

“What motive? What plan?” Sancho is puzzled.

Rose hears a rap on the door. It opens letting air whoosh in the room stirring the carpet dust. Over the noise from the open door, she hears Victor Campbell shout.

“Sorry to disturb you Mister S but the weather is getting worse. The Captain says the sea is getting too rough so he is turning back to the marina.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes.” Hubert says.

“We are a little over ten miles out. I suggest you give your rally speech now!”

Before Sancho can answer, Matuso shouts.

“Sancho will be a few minutes. I am talking…”

“Achoo!” Rose sneezes loud enough to exceed all other noises.

“Hey! Who is there?” Matuso shouts and he rushes toward the couch.

Rose sits up holding her MP3 player with her earbuds in her ears. She looks at Rafael in shock and acts as if she is turning off the MP3 player.

“Who the Hell are you?” Rafael Matuso shouts.

“Who the Hell are you?” Rose asks. She puts her hat on and takes one earbud out.

“Never mind that, what are you doing in here?” Matuso shouts.

“I’m listening to music and hiding from my boyfriend. We had a fight. I thought you were Wayne coming in.” Rose stands up and steps from behind the couch.

“This Wayne is your so-called boyfriend?”

She fakes a pout as she stretches her hand out to show Matuso her MP3 player. “Yes, I was just listening to music to avoid him for a while. I will leave now. You guys can have the room.” She frowns and starts toward the door, but Matuso blocks her way.

“Where are you going?” Matuso shouts remembering a briefing he had yesterday.

“No need to shout at me, I’m leaving!”

“Miss Finley, is it? I think you are hiding in here to listen to what we say! Is that a recorder?” Matuso swats the player away from Rose. The other earbud snaps out of her ear as the player flies across the room bouncing off the front wall.

“Ow!” Rose shouts. Caught off guard, she feels more pain as Matuso grabs her arm and twists it behind her back.

“Ow! Let go! You’re hurting me! Hey, that’s an expensive player!”

“No one can hear you honey.” Matuso smiles at her.

“What do we do now?” Sancho shouts watching Rose jerk trying to free her arm.

“Let me go. I have enough problems!”

“You have the worst problem now!” Matuso twists her arm higher. He pushes her near the window.

“Open up!” Matuso shouts to Sancho. He struggles with Rose as Sancho rushes to the window and fumbles with the latch to swing open the window.

“This opens to the sea. What are you doing?” Sancho feels his gut wrench as the wind rushes through the open portal and buffets his thin hair. He stares at the girl.

“I toss her through the window!”

“No! You can’t just toss her out there!” Sancho shouts. His mind is in shock, not believing what Matuso wants to do.

“Yes, I can!” Matuso shouts pushing Rose closer to the window.

Rose squirms and twists trying to scratch Matuso with her free hand. She tries to elbow him but he forces her away. She stomps at his foot but he twists her arm still higher and she misses. She feels more pain in her shoulder. Her hat caught in the wind floats across the room and falls onto the carpet.

“We’re miles from shore. She will drown! We can tie her up until we figure out what to do.” Sancho cries. He locks eyes with Rose’s wide-eyed stare for a second, feeling her fright.

“Yes, she will drown!” Matuso forces Rose to the edge of the window. The wind whips a stream of mist at him and he hears the muffled noise of the music coming through the opening as the ocean rushes by. He avoids Rose’s free hand trying to claw at him as he grabs the bottom of her dress with his other hand and aims her at the window. He smiles feeling her struggle violently but her tight dress restricts her movement, and he is too strong for her. Matuso lifts her off the floor and heaves her out the opening. He hears her scream cut off when Rose plunges headfirst into the ocean.

“How can you do that?” Sancho yells.

“Easy, she weighs maybe a hundred twenty pounds.” Matuso chortles.

“You joke? This is terrible! You sealed her fate! She cannot survive out there!” Sancho’s shaky legs collapse and he melts onto the couch. He pulls out his large handkerchief and mops his face.

“She’s going to die!” Victor says standing frozen in place near the door.

“Exactly, and what do you think she was doing here? She is Grant’s red-haired agent Rose Finley! Grant described her to me in case she came aboard against orders. She came here to spy on us, Victor! She was recording us but we surprised her before she could get away to tell anyone.” Matuso picks up the MP3 player. “This is her recorder!” He picks up her purse and her hat off the floor. With a flick of his wrist, he tosses everything out the window.

“I think that was just an MP3 player.” Victor says with a shaky voice.

“These spies, they make innocent-looking things into recorders Victor.”

Sancho mops his brow again. “If she really was hiding from her boyfriend, you murdered an innocent woman!”

“I tell you she is Grant’s impudent spy and that was her recorder. No matter, problem solved! It’s time to forget about this! If anyone asks, we never saw her! Hubert will come out in time for his speech.” Matuso latches the window shut.

“I hope no one saw her go!” Sancho mops his forehead, a bundle of nerves. He slides over on the couch for Victor to sit but Victor turns to leave.

“Victor, wait!” Matuso shouts.

“I’m not sure what to do here sir.”

“I’ll tell you what to do. Just do nothing and say nothing about this to anyone!”

“Someone might have seen her go in the ocean. We should check.”

“We would have heard a commotion by now and we are too far away by the time she gets to the surface. She can yell all she wants and no one will hear her. Can you keep this a secret and act normal? Can you do that?” Matuso sees Victor give a nod of resignation. “Good, leave us alone Victor. We will be out in a few minutes.” Matuso motions for Victor to leave and waits for the door to close before speaking again.

“I will go over the details of our plan. If you talk too long you can finish your speech while the boat is docking.” Matuso steps next to the door after Victor leaves.

“Sara will die from a single headshot. My man will wipe the gun clean using a handkerchief with Medina’s initials on it and leave it at the apartment with the gun. He will send a text to Bill Medina using her phone begging him to come to her apartment because she wants to negotiate some dirt she has on him. He will find her dead just as the police arrive due to an anonymous call from a burner phone. I am sure Medina will get his fingerprints on the gun, but no matter. The police will believe he murdered her and then cleaned the gun.”

“This is not what I want to happen.” Sancho stands up still shaken.

“We have no choice. Sit down!” Matuso forces Sancho back on the couch. “You must get yourself back in control! Act natural as if nothing has happened.”

“God help us!” Sancho mumbles mopping his face again.

“God won’t help us, we are not angels! We help ourselves. That woman was an agent and agents are expendable! Grant was supposed to keep her off this boat.” Matuso says as he dials his FBI contact Donna Grant. He sees Sancho bury his head in his hands leaning forward on the couch. Matuso frowns and thinks. What a weak man! He turns away, hearing Donna Grant answer.

“Why are you calling me?” Donna asks.

“Listen Grant, you told me no agent would be at this party!”

“None should be. Finley is the only one who wanted to go but I told her no… I described her to you in case, remember?”

“Yes, she is the redhead?”

“Yes. But I told her not to go on the party boat.”

“Well, she disobeyed. I caught her spying on us.”

“You will have to change your plan then. I don’t know how I can handle this if she tells me anything.”

“No worries, I tossed her into the ocean maybe ten miles off shore. Soon the rain and wind will hide her forever. She will not be talking to anyone!”

“Oh no! What the…” Donna pauses to regain her composure. “My boss will have questions about an agent disappearing. I’ll have to think up something when I report her missing. What about her recorder, did you find her recorder?”

“Yes, I tossed that and her purse and hat too. There is nothing left of hers.”

“Good, but I’m not happy losing her, Rafi.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was a good agent, she trusted me. I could send her on false leads. Now I have to pick a new agent to investigate Sancho, but you did what you had to do.”

“I did it, for both our sakes.” Matuso disconnects and looks at Sancho. “Just so you know, her demise is a hazard of her job Sancho. She was a spy! Now I need to talk to Frank.” Matuso says as he walks toward the door.

“You mean your goon by the entrance?” Sancho is despondent as he leans over feeling dizzy thinking. I’m a witness to a murder and a planned assassination!

Matuso opens the door but turns back. “Careful Hubert, he’s my number one man!”

“Sorry.” Sancho says and sees Matuso stare at him.

“I have to see if this Wayne fellow came with that woman. Act like the politician I know you are. Be out in two minutes. You must give a fearless speech! Just hit on the highlights.” Matuso steps out of the room and swings the door closed.

Hubert Sancho sits alone on the couch, listens to the hum of the engine, and tries to cope with what happened. He mops his face again still dizzy. “I just need more money, not murders! There is no way out of this!” He sobs and toys with the idea of having the Captain go back to find the girl but believes she is already dead even if they could find her. He could blow the whistle on Matuso but he knows he cannot do that. Political suicide and possibly his own death would happen if he did. Sancho feels his heart still racing as he rises to leave the room. He takes a deep breath, straightens his tie, and walks out of the quiet room into the music and noise.

Matuso makes his way through the crowd giving a fake smile as he shuffles across the dance floor. He feels content. Murdering the girl as a solution to the problem just solidifies his hold over Sancho and Campbell. He hums contented, feeling no remorse. Rafael sees his man Frank standing near the bar, scotch, and water in hand, watching the crowd. As he nears Frank, his man shouts.

“Hey boss, all is good here. Everybody is having fun.”

Matuso leans into Frank’s ear to overcome the loud music.

“You remember seeing a red head in a tight blue dress with no invitation card?”

“Yes sir, but I checked her. She was clean.”

“My mistake, I should have warned you.”

“Warned me about what?”

“No matter, who is she with?”

“No one sir. She crashed the party just before we left the marina, said she lost her invitation. She’s a good looker and checked out okay so I let her on.”

“You’re sure she is with no one?”

“Yes sir, I would have noticed. She came onboard late, mingled with the crowd and then I lost sight of her. She must be on the far side of the dance floor. Do you want me or Craig to find her?”

“Oh yeah, Craig is here for backup. No Frank, just forget you ever saw her.”

“Saw who sir?”

“Grazie! I will explain later.” Matuso smiles at his number one man and pats Frank’s shoulder. He sees Hubert Sancho walk to the platform with Victor trailing behind him. Matuso smiles thinking about how everything is happening correctly. He listens to Sancho talk to the crowd and smiles knowing agent Finley is dead by now. The start of his relationship with Sancho is going better than expected.

Rose plunges head first deep into the Atlantic Ocean tasting its salt before she can close her screaming mouth. She curves her arms and body reversing direction and pops up to the surface. She sucks in air and then the weight of the waterlogged dress drags her beneath the surface again. Rose kicks off her shoes and thrashes her arms and legs violently but cannot stop her descent further into the black void. Her tight dress constricts her movement too much as she sinks deeper unable to stop her descent. Flipping on her back she sees the surface receding and concedes defeat to the ocean.

She feels calmness and joy inside that she never felt before as she relaxes her body to the inevitable. She feels her lungs ready to explode as she prepares to exhale and breathe in ocean water. Her final breath will end her short career as an FBI agent. What a waste! She thinks as she continues to drift deeper.

Then her mind slaps her back to reality telling her she must not die! She resists the urge to survive but her strong will to live takes over. She grabs the zipper on her dress pulling it down to her waist. Rose starts forcing the dress off her body. The tight dress material drags her panties down too. Her lungs are burning. Rose has no time to grab anything. The dress and the panties tangle into a wad at her feet. She kicks and raises her feet up and down until she finally ejects the dress and her underwear.

She swims with seemingly supernatural strength back to the surface and gasps uncontrollably, sucking air and spray into her starving lungs. Coughing, kicking, and paddling, she manages to keep her head above water. After her lungs calm down Rose flips her tangled hair out of her face. The wind whips a sprinkle of rain against her, and she swallows a gulp of ocean, as a new wave hits her from behind dumping her hair in her face again. Rose swings her head up to assess her surroundings. She struggles to stay on the turbulent surface. She can barely hear the noise from the distant engine and the music of the party boat already several hundred yards away. I hope someone saw me go overboard. Rose thinks but then as if to taunt her, she hears the faint blare of a saxophone stop and the happy crowd cheer, “Tequila!”

“Hey! Oh no! Oh no!” Rose shouts working her legs to keep her head above the choppy surface. The party boat and the music continue to fade away. She becomes aware of a dull continuous ache from her right shoulder, where Matuso twisted her arm so violently. She treads water trying to think of what to do next.

With no bra and her panties and shoes gone, Rose laughs a nervous laugh realizing she is completely nude and has nothing around her to help her stay afloat. She treads water still gasping for air as she looks and listens, hoping to hear or see another boat. Except for a possible cargo ship several miles away, she sees nothing but waves and no sign of land. Even the party boat is now just a speck that shows up between wave crests. The foamy waves seem to be rising in height, cresting, and relentlessly trying to force her under water. She works hard to stay atop the bottomless ocean. She can feel her heart pounding much faster than normal.

Then her survival instincts kick in. I can make it! Rose asserts, determined to stay alive. She looks toward the blacker clouds she knows are to the south. That must be an outer band of the hurricane. You are not dead yet! You must not panic! You can swim to shore. Her shoulder, arms, and legs are aching but her strong will to survive gives her strength. Rose analyzes her surroundings. She knows she can do the doggy-paddle almost forever so she starts swimming west, in the same direction the boat went.

“You bastards!” She shouts after a cresting wave douses her from behind. I wonder how long I can survive here. Rose thinks and once again forces herself to continue paddling. She examines the sky. The sun is straight up still glowing through the scattered dark clouds and waiting for the thicker black clouds to roll over. Rose keeps working at a slow steady doggy-paddle. She tries not to think about her struggling motions that may attract sharks and other predators lurking near her. Rose concentrates on her swimming hoping she won’t drown in the ocean before she reaches the Miami shore and before she loses strength or something eats her.

Some birds circling an area ahead of her bring her back to reality. The white fliers seem to work together swooping down perhaps targeting small fish. A strong feeling of loneliness creeps into her thoughts. She feels the inevitable end to her life is near and for a brief moment, Rose feels sadness take over her emotions. Surely if she dies out here her body may never be found. She thinks about her parents forever wondering what happened to her. Rose focuses on paddling, trying to ignore her aching muscles and shoulder. She shakes off feeling panicky, although she sees no sign of land.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a wave bashing her backside and pushing her forward. Keep your head up girl. You can make it! She mentally blanks out the pain in her shoulder and muscles and keeps paddling. Rose sees the black clouds and the rain wall closing in on her from the south. She struggles to believe she will make it to shore. Then she pauses as a cold chill runs through her. She sees the surface churn ahead of her but this time it isn’t any small fish the birds are after. Rose counts six gray fins on the surface rushing toward her. They come straight at her.