“You’re telling me.”
Omega Shipping, on the books, was a huge enterprise; their headquarters on Washington Street were small. One car was parked in the front of the industrial building. Activity on the opposite end was heavier, but they weren’t Omega facilities.
“Is this it?” Sam asked Trace.
“Yep. Sonia and I came out here last year, not to talk to them, just to check it out. It was the same.”
“Looks like a front.”
“Looks like.”
“Let’s go.”
The interior was bigger than the outside suggested. The warehouse had been converted into large offices, all of which were dark. The reception area was cheerful with bright, fake flowers and a tidy reception desk. The young woman who sat behind it was typing triplicate forms on an electric typewriter. When they stepped through the door, a bell rang overhead and she turned to them, smiling brightly. She was blond and petite, and seemed thrilled to have potential customers.
“Can I help you?”
Sam smiled back, showed her his badge. “I’m Sam Callahan. And you are?”
She was a bit flustered, but responded. “Daisy Sajeck.”
“We’re following up on a murder investigation-”
“Someone was killed?”
He nodded solemnly. “Xavier Jones. Did you know him?”
“Mr. Jones! That’s awful?”
Sam wanted to ask if she watched the news, but refrained. “I know he did business with Mr. Christopoulis, and I hoped I could have a word with him. We’re trying to find out who might have had a grievance with Mr. Jones.”
“George and Mr. Jones were very good friends. He’s going to be shocked when he hears.”
“He’s not here?”
She shook her head. “He’s on the
Argentina. Again. Sam mentally filed the information and asked, “Is Mrs. Christopoulis available?”
“And they still work together?” Trace asked.
She blinked. “Well, George was upset about the divorce-I think he likes his dad a lot more than his mother- but they get along okay.”
Sam glanced at Trace. They’d assumed that Victoria Christopoulis was George’s wife.
Trace said, “The senior Christopoulises are still Greek citizens, correct?”
“Oh, yes. Ms. Christopoulis would never want to live here.”
“Is she in Greece now?”
“No, she’s in town. She stays with George, which is why I think he took this extra assignment.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I wouldn’t want to live under the same roof with her. And I thought my mom was bad.” She rolled her eyes like a teenager. Sam realized she wasn’t much older than one.
“How long have you worked here?” he asked.
“Ten months. Longest job I’ve held. My daddy says if I can keep the same job for one year, he’ll buy me a convertible. I’m almost there.”
“Good for you. We were hoping Mr. Christopoulis could help with our investigation. Was he in town Wednesday night?”
“Wednesday? I don’t think so. He docked late Tuesday, after I was gone for the day. I had a manifest and billing on my desk Wednesday morning. He came in late in the afternoon to work, then told me about the
“It wasn’t scheduled?”
“It was an emergency. Another shipper canceled at the last minute, and Mr. Christopoulis took the job. He works so hard.” She sounded like she was infatuated.
“Does Ms. Christopoulis come in to work here?”
“She hates coming down here. She works from the house. But I can call her for you, you can set up an appointment-”
“No, that’s okay. It’s not important right now.” It was hugely important, but Sam didn’t want Daisy talking to Victoria Christopoulis about him before he could track her down. “When is George coming back to town?”
“Two weeks,” she said.
“Great. We’ll call then.”
“I can tell him you came by-he calls every night.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. It sounded like something might be going on between George and Daisy. By the light flush in her cheeks, he suspected he was right.
“That’s okay, Daisy. Two weeks is fine.”
Sam and Trace left Omega. “That was interesting,” Trace said. “Want to go chat with Mommy Christo poulis?”
“Absolutely. Christopoulis’s house is only a couple miles from here, on Country Club Drive. Let’s see what she has to say.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Noel stood on the pathetic excuse for a balcony on the tenth floor of the Hyatt Hotel and spoke to his buyer.
“Everything is running smoothly,” he assured the man on the other end of the phone. He went by the name Richter. Noel knew that wasn’t his name; Noel knew far more about “Richter” than the buyer, and the organization he represented, suspected, but information was crucial at this stage of the process. He’d reveal his intelligence only when and if it became necessary.
“We’re getting nervous with the increased federal activity,” Richter said.
“They are chasing their tails. They don’t know what to think or where to turn. The merchandise is secure. I confirmed it personally.”
Noel knew what Richter’s plan was, and Noel wasn’t going to let the bastard undercut him. He had far too much invested in this deal to allow Richter’s organization to cut the price. Reduce the cost once and no one would ever pay full market value again.
“Because of the increased risks and security measures, we feel that a reduction in price is warranted.”
Noel would have smiled at being right had he not been so irritated that they wanted to stiff him.
“Price is not negotiable.”
“We have additional costs, and it’s not our people who brought the feds swooping down.”
“If you’re concerned, feel free to back out. I have another buyer lined up,” Noel bluffed. He could get a new buyer with time, but that would mean staying in America beyond Saturday night. That was not a true option. Noel would rather destroy the merchandise and relinquish this particular market than stay in the United States longer than he had planned. This corridor had always been profitable, but his freedom was more important. He could open another route easily enough. Annoying, but not deadly.
Richter attempted to bluff as well. “That’s your decision. We feel that fifteen thousand a head is too high.”
“Fifteen thousand is the group price. Individually, they go for twenty to twenty-five thousand each, and you know that with good management you’ll make back your money in a year. You’re getting thirty ripe vessels. You can sell a few yourself to recoup some of your costs, but I don’t need to tell you how to run your business.”
“We’re offering ten thousand.”
“I am not open to negotiation in this matter.”
