Soul Sucker Ch. 31-End

"Why?"

"I feel like I'm disappointing them. They brought me up to save myself for marriage, and now I'm pregnant and unmarried. It's not the example I thought I'd make for Heather."

"You're pregnant?" Heather stood by the curtain, eyes wide as she looked between us. "I'm not surprised. You two make a lot of noise when you think I'm asleep."

Mary's face turned beet red while I hid my face behind my hands. Kids grow up fast these days. Mary finally opened her arms and pulled Heather close. "You're going to be a great older sister."

The next step was telling her parents. We made a plan, and Heather video-called her Grandmother to start it off. "Hi, Grandma!"

"Happy New Year, Heather! FRANK, COME IN HERE! How was last night, honey?"

"It was fun! Daddy woke me up to watch the ball drop, and he gave me a gift!" She held her hand up in front of the camera so the camera showed the gold ring with the diamond and emeralds. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh, my, that IS beautiful! Is that a real diamond?"

"And real emeralds," Heather said.

"That's a very nice gift," Anita said.

"It's not as big as Mom's ring." With that, she turned the camera to where Mary was sitting, her left hand stretched towards the camera.

"OH MY GOD, ARE YOU ENGAGED??"

"He asked me last night, and I said yes!"

Heather sat on her Mom's lap, and I cleaned up from breakfast. Fifteen minutes later, Frank called my phone. I showed Heather the caller ID, grabbed a jacket, then stepped onto my small balcony to answer it. "When you said you wanted to ask for my daughter's hand, I didn't expect it this early," he told me. "Nice move by including Heather. That got you lots of brownie points."

"Things change," I replied. "I'd planned to wait until things around me calmed down, but they aren't going to. I've got a video of me asking them. I'll send it along after I've edited it down."

"How far along is she?"

I damn near dropped my phone. "Two or three weeks. Mary got the positive test." I waited for the explosion. "How did you know?"

"She's glowing from more than the ring. Her Mom gets the same dopey, lovestruck expression after a good night of sex." There were depths to this man I'd yet to discover. I was waiting for him to get mad, and he didn't. "I had a gut feeling, and I figured you wouldn't lie to me, though you might refuse to answer. Either way, I'd know."

"We were going to tell you soon," I told him.

"You're a good man, John, and you make my girls happy. Her mother would prefer Mary walk down the aisle without a baby bump, so get it done."

"It will have to be in New York with my bail, and you know how the press is hounding me. I don't know how to make this work for her."

He just laughed. "Son, you show up in the right outfit and say the words the Priest gives you. The rest of it, Angie and Mary will figure out."

Heather opened the door and poked her head out. "Daddy, where are the ring boxes?"

"In the middle drawer of the bedside table, honey." I returned to the phone call, only realizing thirty seconds later what ELSE was in the drawer, and I didn't mean a box of condoms or a bottle of lube. Those were in the top drawer with her remote-control vibrator. "Dad, I have to go."

I ran inside, catching up to Heather next to the bed. Mary came in after me, just in time to see her daughter turn around with a jewel-encrusted dagger in her hand. "What is this?"

"Put it down, Heather. That is very old and dangerous," I told her.

She set it on the pile of photographs of the young and beautiful Ingrid Street that were now on top of the table. "And who is THAT," Mary demanded.

Shit. "It's going to be a long story."

"We've got all day," Mary answered. "I won't stand for secrets in our relationship."

I ran my fingers through my short hair. "All righty, then." I put the dagger back in the drawer and picked up the sheaf of papers. "Let's take this to the couch."

It was past lunchtime before they learned the whole story.

Chapter 37

Inspector Royce Jameson's POV

Royal Saint Vincent and the Grenadines Police Headquarters, Kingstown

Saturday, February 25, 2023

"JAMESON! Get in here!"

I set down my coffee and walked to the corner office. Knocking on the door, I entered when my boss gestured for me to come in. Deputy Chief Harold Piers, the head of the Major Crimes Unit at Police Headquarters, stood by the window, looking towards the harbor. "What's going on, Chief?"

"I just got off the phone with the Coast Guard. Two people fell off a yacht midway between Kingstown and Port Elizabeth last night. The ship's crew recovered the wife, but the husband is missing and presumed dead. The search is ongoing."

There had to be more. Major Crimes wouldn't get the case for an accidental drowning; the Coast Guard would file the paperwork. "What aren't you telling me?"

"The missing man is an American multi-millionaire named Landon Street. Until a few months ago, he owned a crypto-currency exchange in Denver. He sold it a few days before marrying a young heiress named Ingrid Anderson on New Year's Eve. They were on an extended honeymoon, cruising the Caribbean on their hundred-and-twenty-foot yacht."

Shit. "You think the press will be all over this?"

"It's possible. That's not all."

Of course. "What else is going on?"

"Mr. Street has many influential friends in the Gulf States. Our Prime Minister is already fielding calls from his counterparts in the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain, insisting we release their people immediately."

It made sense now. "Mr. Street was entertaining guests last night."

He nodded. "Five banking executives and their escorts. They are demanding transport to the airport, but the Coast Guard can't let them go without an investigation."

"And that leaves me."

"It does. I've arranged for a speedboat to take you to the search area. You will interview the crew and guests and determine if there is evidence of foul play. The Prime Minister wants the banking people interviewed and released. They will return in the speedboat to their private jet." I rolled my eyes at that. Men like that spend fortunes here, so they get preferential treatment. "The yacht will return to Kingston Harbor after the Coast Guard calls off the search. You can get off then."

"Who knows about this, sir?"

"Officially, only a few dozen people in the Coast Guard and government. There's no telling how many people the guests or the Captain called. That's another reason to get started on the investigation immediately."

"Understood, sir."

He handed me a note with the name of the boat. "Pier four, Royce. Close this case quickly if you can."

"Sir!" I saluted and did an about-face before striding out of his office. I grabbed my briefcase, stuffing in a few things before heading for the pier. The offshore speedboat had four big 200-horse outboard motors and was plenty fast in the calm seas. We pulled up to the stern of the Street Living, and I hopped on board.

"Welcome aboard, Inspector," the Captain said as he offered his hand. "Any assistance you need, please let me know."

"I'll need a room, an office preferably, where I can interview witnesses. We'll start with the male guests and work back to the crew," I told him. "Where is Mrs. Street?"

"She's sleeping in the main cabin with one of my stewards watching over her," he replied. He gestured for me to follow up the stairway, then two more. "I wanted to send her to the hospital for observation, but she refused. She finally agreed to rest just after sunrise. She wants to be here when we find her husband."

As the last person to see Landon alive, she was the last person I wanted to speak to, so it worked out. "Please inform your crew that no one is to speak to her before I do, and inform me when she awakens."

"Of course, Inspector." He stopped outside a door just behind the bridge. "This is my private office. Will this be acceptable?"

The space was about eight feet by ten, with a desk and two chairs. Charts and photographs covered the wall. "This will be fine, Captain. Send the first man up in five minutes."

I sat at the desk and took out my laptop to take notes and a voice recorder. In the early part of the investigation, you wanted to get an idea of events surrounding the accident and how much direct knowledge each person had.

Ninety minutes later, I let the bankers and their dates go after they signed statements. Their stories were both predictable and consistent. After dinner in Kingston and some time at a bar, they boarded the yacht to continue the party. The plan was to transit overnight to Little Savan Island and spend the day on the isolated beach. The party started on the sun deck around the Jacuzzi and bar as they departed the harbor. By midnight, pairs started disappearing into staterooms or the salon below. Landon Street and Ingrid headed to the main cabin around one in the morning.

One couple who stayed on the sun deck reported hearing the married couple 'having loud and vigorous sex' with Ingrid screaming out Landon's name more than once. The last scream sounded different, and thirty seconds later, the Captain announced the Man Overboard. Everyone had to muster on the main deck, and all were present when a crewman on a Jet Ski brought Ingrid back from the dark ocean.

No one saw Landon fall, and Ingrid said he never surfaced after they hit the water.

My next interview subject knocked. The Captain told me he was the only long-term guest on board and was traveling alone. The tanned male was in his forties with perfect black hair and a designer suit. In the tropics, that meant either a lawyer or a politician. "Doug Graves," he said as he offered his hand. "I'm Landon's friend and lawyer."

"How does that work?"

"I was lucky enough to be the guy he needed when he was starting up the Exchange. We hit it off, and I've represented him ever since."

"What do you know of the accident?"

"Almost nothing," he replied. "I retired to my stateroom about midnight, pounded some water to stave off the hangover, and didn't wake until the man overboard announcement."

"Can anyone confirm your whereabouts?"

He looked nervous. "I'd rather not say."

I raised an eyebrow. "You realize I'll be interviewing everyone at least once? It's bound to come out." He was protecting someone. "Were you having an affair with Ingrid?"

Doug laughed. "Her? No way. Landon is banging her like a broken screen door ten times daily. I thought it would taper off after a week or two, but they won't stop! I don't know where they get the energy, and I can't count the number of times I've walked in on them screwing on a table or a piece of furniture." He leaned forward and whispered. "Look, I'm sleeping with a crew member. Her husband doesn't know, so I'd appreciate it if this doesn't get out."

Ah. "As long as your stories match, I see no reason to include that in my report," I said evenly. "Who is it?"

"The Chef," he replied.

"Do you have any reason to believe Ingrid might want Landon dead?"

"Inspector, I've never seen two young people in love like them. She worships that man, and she is his everything."

"Money?"

"I negotiated the prenup myself. Ingrid was a rich woman before the marriage, but you'd never know it. It's like the money doesn't matter to her."

While he reviewed his statement, I called the Captain and asked him to start sending the crew through, beginning with the onboard chef. She was reluctant to say anything but confirmed she was in bed with Doug when the announcement woke them. I had her leave her exact whereabouts vague and sign a statement with what she did know.

The rest of the statements were similar. Most of the crew was on duty on the bridge or sleeping. The two others were the bartender on the sun deck and the deckhand cleaning up on the main deck. The bartender confirmed the details about the drunken escapades during and after the party, while the deckhand confirmed the other stories. "Did you see or hear Mr. and Mrs. Street before they went overboard?"

The young man nodded. "Kind of hard NOT to hear Mrs. Street when she gets going. She's a screamer. Mr. Street sure knows how to ring her bell! Hard and often, if you know what I mean."

"They were having sex?"

"Of course. We have to stay professional and try not to notice, but damn! She's one hot woman, and those two are fucking all over the ship! Last night I spotted them on the railing outside the main cabin. She sat on the rail while he stood between her legs, pounding away. I went back to wiping down the deck furniture. Maybe two minutes later, I heard them going over."

"What did it sound like?"

"I heard a loud thump, then she screamed right before the splash. I ran to the port side and saw the foam from the splash and an arm. I screamed out MAN OVERBOARD and ran for the life ring. By the time I tossed it in the water, I couldn't see anything."

"Did you see either of them after that?"

He shook his head. "Not until Mrs. Street came back with Skip on the jet ski. She was naked, which was normal for her, and had swallowed a lot of seawater. She was crying, coughing, and yelling for Landon. The head stew wrapped her in a towel, and she stayed there while we kept looking." He wiped a tear. "I feel like I let them down. The Streets were good people, and I love being on this crew. If I'd acted a little faster or made a better ring toss, maybe he'd still be alive."

"And maybe if Landon hadn't been drinking all night, he'd have been able to swim," I replied. "You did the best you could."

"Yeah."

The Captain was last. His statement aligned with the others I'd gotten. He'd nearly finished writing it when someone banged on the door and asked him to come to the bridge. I followed him forward, where the First Mate was steering at maximum speed towards a Coast Guard boat on the horizon.

They'd found him, thanks to the gulls and seabirds diving around the chum slick. The Chief on the boat warned us not to let the wife see the body as the sharks had gotten to it. They had it in a body bag before we came alongside.

I had the Captain verify his identity before I made the death notification. Ingrid didn't take the news well, and I'd have to wait until she calmed down to talk. The Chief Steward in the main cabin to make sure she rested.

We headed back to Kingston while I called my boss on the satellite phone and gave him the news.

I wrote my report on the transit back, finally interviewing Ingrid about an hour before we entered the port. They were making love on the railing when she leaned too far back. Landon tried to save his wife, but went over himself. Once they hit the water, Ingrid let go. She made it back to the surface, but she never saw him again.

It was an open-and-shut accidental death case.

Chapter 38

Ingrid Anderson (Frances Dortmund's) POV

Yacht Street Living, Kingston Harbor, Royal Saint Vincent and the Grenadines

Saturday, February 25, 2023

I'd called Lana and Lonnie and told them to get here as soon as possible after the accident. The pair was coming up the gangplank now after flying here from Denver.

Landon's exit strategy from his illegal activities had moved up. Officials he was working with inside the Ukrainian government were nervous for their freedom, not their lives. The ongoing war with Russia had been a boon, with billions in aid flowing through their hands to skim off. Now the President was cleaning house in an anti-corruption purge. Generals, ministers, and officials are being fired, replaced, or jailed as the President's loyalists take their place.

With the exit strategies triggered, a series of automated trades began last week. The last of the transactions happened last night with the Mideastern banking executives we'd entertained on the yacht. With their cooperation, the Feds would run into a dead end tracing the funds.

How did we know it was happening? Lonnie made sure there was NOTHING that happened with Landon or his lawyer that we didn't know of. We had surveillance devices in all the rooms on the yacht, in Landon's home, and inside Doug's office. The Satellite Internet on the boat and Doug's office internet had surveillance devices that recorded all traffic in and out. Lonnie even planted a recording device in Doug's briefcase, capable of downloading all his conversations when we brought the matching device close enough.

The only thing we didn't have were the account numbers and passwords for the final accounts. Doug and Landon never spoke of them, and the bank accounts predated our surveillance.

"Ingrid," Lana said as she rushed to me on the fantail. She embraced me like I was her daughter, though it was the other way around. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"We are here for you as long as you need us," Lonnie added as he joined the hug.

"Take their bags to the guest rooms," I ordered one of the stewards. "You must be tired after all that flying. Join me in the main salon?"

"Certainly," Lonnie replied.

With the other guests on their way to the Gulf and the police gone, the yacht was quiet again. Doug Graves was inside, sitting on a stuffed chair. He had his laptop open on the table in front of him. He looked up as the three of us walked in. "Lana, Lonnie," he said as he stood up. "Thank you for coming. Ingrid needs her friends right now."

"She does," Lana said. We sat near him, giving the steward our drink orders. "Ensure we have privacy now," I told her after she finished serving.

"Of course, Ma'am." I could hear her radio other crew members with their owner's instructions. None of them would come onto this deck until I lifted the order.

I waited until she closed and locked the door and disappeared down the ladder. "Lana and Lonnie are here to help me put affairs in order after my husband's tragic death," I said.

"I'll certainly help in any way I can," Doug replied. "Once we have the death certificate from local authorities, we can file for your life insurance claim and execute Landon's will. His planning ensures you'd have a comfortable life if something happened like this."

"Lana is perfectly capable of handling such mundane affairs," I said with a smile to my daughter. "I'm referring to the things you and Landon never wrote down."

Doug froze for a moment, then forced himself to relax. I could hear his heart racing. "What do you mean?"

"Safecoins," Lonnie replied. Doug went white as a sheet. "Until two weeks ago, they were trading around $5000 a unit. Sell orders started pushing the prices down until yesterday. It was over $4000 when the US markets closed. When the Japanese exchange opened, it went into freefall. Overnight, the market collapsed, and it is now trading at less than twenty dollars. Some people lost a LOT of money."

"Crypto investments are volatile," Doug replied evenly. "This kind of thing happens."

"And when they do, the people who started the cryptocurrency make a lot of money when they get out at the top of the market," I said. "What are the punishments for financial fraud and money laundering these days, Lana?"

"Wire fraud is twenty years per count. Tax evasion is five. If they go after him with RICO for a criminal enterprise, he's looking at twenty years per act. All this time is in a Federal prison with no parole. He'll be sucking dick in the showers until he chokes to death," she said with a feral grin.

"I've done nothing wrong," he protested. His forehead was starting to sweat, and his neck was flushed.

Lonnie pulled some papers out of his jacket pocket and handed them over. Doug's eyes widened as he reviewed the account transaction histories and sell orders. He stopped reading them after a few pages, pausing to gulp down his drink. "How did you get these?"

"You and Landon didn't cover your tracks well," I said. "Did you think I wouldn't take steps to protect myself before marrying him? I had these two find out EVERYTHING about him, on the public and the hidden sides. I knew about his illegal earnings and your plan to cash out and launder it through offshore accounts and investments. I let it go because I had plausible deniability. My name is nowhere on those accounts. You are the only living person with control of them now. You started moving money into your private accounts before we'd recovered Landon's body! Do you think I'm too young and blonde to realize when someone is stealing eighty-seven point one MILLION dollars of MY money?"