Her wake-up happy delirium stemmed from the fact that Mike was still in her apartment. He insisted that he’d be comfortable on the couch, for the second night in a row. The gentlemanly act would wear off soon, but she appreciated it just the same. He was very smart, indicating she was more than just a simple, roll-in-the-hay, play toy.
Considering Mike’s looks, appeal and charisma, he’d probably had lots of women throw themselves at him. Added to his charm and attractiveness was his recognition as a celebrity personality on TV in Hawaii. Few people knew how smart he really was, but that was his most important attribute. Besides his sexiness and fun, of course, which might just outweigh all the other plus-stuff she liked about Mike.
Heather stopped for a few moments of pure self-indulgence to watch Mike sleep on her couch in the living room. His feet overlapped the end of the couch and he had an arm bent over his eyes, hiding from the morning sun coming through the curtains behind the couch. Heather admired him for a while before going into the kitchen to make coffee. She mixed instant coffee stirred into ice water and took a few sips to wake up. Then she started on her daily list of things to do in a notebook.
She was half way through the FIND MICHELLE list when she knew with a prickling sensation Mike was looking over her shoulder. She hadn’t heard him get up and walk barefoot into the kitchen.
“Why the question mark after ‘call Bobby?’” Mike asked.
“I don’t want to worry Michelle’s brother unnecessarily,” Heather said, enjoying the warm feel of his breath on her skin when he spoke. “Instant coffee is on the counter.”
“Thanks. I think you should call him. Not her parents, of course. A little premature to worry them. But someone in her family should know.”
Heather nodded and felt his arm go around her shoulders to give a strong, comforting squeeze.
“The littlest general,” he said. “Good list.” He let go and she could hear him microwaving water for his coffee.
“I have a telescope so powerful you can see the craters on the moon,” Mike said.
Heather looked up. “So?”
“We can see if that guy in Omar’s apartment is really a double, impersonating him.”
“The angle is all wrong,” Heather said.
Mike shook his head. “Those floor to ceiling windows go around the whole penthouse. We can’t see inside from the front, because there are no buildings there, just the ocean, but there are buildings behind it.”
Heather smiled. “You have a devious mind.”
Mike nodded, “I need to get on the roof of one of them. There are several that would be perfect. My telescope will see right inside Omar’s place. I have a camera with this neat, ultra-powerful, zoom lens, too. With the date and time stamps we can prove that guy isn’t Omar.”
“Yeah, but Omar could say the guy was just visiting him,” Heather said.
“A guy who looks just like Omar, an almost perfect replica, suddenly appears in his apartment? I think people would question that. It’s a start, anyway.”
“Yeah. Let’s do it right away,” Heather said, nodding eagerly.
Mike drank his coffee quickly and put the cup in the sink. “I’ll go get the camera and telescope and check out the buildings. I’ll tell the building managers that I need scenic shots for TV.”
Heather smiled, “That’ll get them. A chance for their building to be featured on your newscast. I appreciate..” was as far as she got. He kissed her hard and fast, lips still hot from the coffee.
He grinned wickedly, winked and left. Then he stuck his head back in the door, “I’ll email pictures from the roof. This should be fun. Turn your computer on.”
Heather was smiling as she continued writing her list. The first call she made was to Guy Thorner, who owned a small private airport and flying school. Omar used Thorner’s place to park his helicopter and rented his plane services occasionally to take him to the outer islands.
Thorner said he had refused Omar’s request to take him to California in one of his Lear Jets. Heather could hear his anxiety when he spoke, “I didn’t want to anger Omar, but really, I know he’s forbidden to leave the island while he’s out on bail. I can’t break the law for a client, even one as good as Omar. I don’t want to lose my business license. I did give Omar the name of some other private pilots who might be a little on the shady side.”
Heather’s mind was whirling. Omar wanted to go to California? “Could you give me the names of those pilots?”
“Why sure,” Thorner said. “Sammy Thompson and Jim Persol. I have their private numbers if you’d like.”
Heather hit pay dirt on her first call to Sammy Thompson. “Yeah, I took Mr. Satinov and his girlfriend to California. Told him I couldn’t take him into Mexico, though, like he wanted me to, so he took a flight from there with a friend of mine who owns a private Lear jet.”
Mexico? “Do you know where he planned to go in Mexico?”
“Guadalajara,” Sammy said.
“Ah, just one more question,” Heather said. “Did he have any unusual baggage?”
Sammy laughed. “Yeah, now that you mention it. He took a large crate. Strange as hell. Looked just like a coffin. With his looks I’d almost think Omar was Dracula, with that big box. Took two of my men to load it. Heavy as hell. Omar said the content was composed of glass, and breakable, so we handled it gently. He oversaw the whole process and was pleased with our service.”
“And his companion? Dark hair.”
“Pretty girl. Hawaiian, I’d say. Short, with black hair to her waist.”
Heather thanked him and huffed some hair out of her face as she wrote down the name of the pilot Omar used to take him to Guadalajara.
Omar’s companion
