Crystal Blue (Buck Reilly Adventure Series Book 3) John Cunningham (psychology books to read TXT) 📖

home sites his crew dug into a crypt of Calusa Indian artifacts. One thing led to another and he called me to help him out.”

“Help him out how?” Crystal said.

“When any kind of old artifacts are found on a property, it stops construction projects dead in their tracks. In this case, the local government required an archeologist to come sift through the site with a toothbrush to determine what was there in order to decide whether they’d allow construction to continue at all. The schedule in the contract for the buyer had a drop dead date if Jack missed delivering it by more than three months. By the time he found me, sixty days had already elapsed and he was at risk of losing a couple million dollars.”

“Were you able to cut through the red tape?”

“At that time, e-Antiquity was pretty well known and had historians and archeologists on retainer, so I came down with a renowned professor of archeology from the University of the Caribbean. We were able to make a quick determination and had one of our extraction teams expedite the documentation and withdrawal of all the pots, tools, plates, bones—everything was excavated and placed into padded cases.”

“What happened to the items you recovered, Buck?”

“The government kept it all. It was one of the few instances where we didn’t keep any of the recovered items, so we took a nice fee and Jack was able to meet his schedule.”

“Yes I was,” said a voice from the stairs below us.

Jack Anderson walked up the curved outdoor staircase to the restaurant’s entrance. His beard was now fully gray, though he still had a ponytail.

“And Kenny Chesney was very pleased with the finished home,” he said as he reached our table. “I never told him the cause of the delay.”

I made introductions. When Crystal mentioned that she and her husband were behind the Adoption AID concert this weekend, Jack’s expression turned serious.

“Can’t imagine today’s news is gonna help,” he said.

“Was there news of John?” Crystal said, her voice shrill.

“That actor, Stud Mahoney. He’s been kidnapped.”

Crystal covered her face with both hands. Only one word escaped between her fingers.

“Shit.”

I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her toward me. I felt her shake, then she sucked in a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry,” Jack said. “I thought you knew.”

If that wasn’t the nail in the coffin of Adoption AID, I didn’t know what would be.

“How do you know he was kidnapped?” I said. “Was it on television?”

“The radio. Just heard it on the way over here. The DJ said there was a note asking for a ransom, and that Mahoney’s production studio is offering a hundred grand for any information that leads to his recovery.”

Crystal dropped her hands. I could see in her eyes that she’d noted the anomaly as well. I knew she’d be in a hurry to find out what was going on and field the inevitable barrage of calls, texts, and emails from all the star-handlers, so I got to the point.

“Jack, I apologize, but this isn’t strictly a social call,” I said.

“Didn’t think it was.”

“Given the news of the kidnapped actor, we’ll need to find out what’s going on, but I wanted to ask what you know about local gang activity here on St. John, and in the Virgins in general.”

He rubbed his beard and I swear it made an audible sound, like sandpaper.

“Gotten pretty bad these last several years,” he said. “Murder rate’s the worst in the U.S.” He took in a deep breath. “Along with the usual—drugs, prostitution, turf wars—”

“Do you know the names of any of the gangbangers, and particularly their leaders?”

“You kidding? Every time we started a new house we got hit up for protection money.”

I raised my eyebrows. Jack nodded.

“Head honcho here on St. John’s a guy named Diego Francis,” he said. “Ruthless SOB. Supposedly killed his own sister for turning tricks and cutting him out—anyway, he lives in a compound over in Fish Bay.” He gave me a cold stare. “If you’re thinking of going to talk to him, then for God’s sake watch your ass. He’s a security freak. The cops won’t go near the place.”

I glanced at Crystal. She was already getting up out of her seat, her cell phone buzzing like an angry hornet.

“So what’s his main line of interest, this Diego Francis?” I said.

“Guns. Supposed to be like the Springfield Armory over there.”

Ugh, I hate guns.

WE STOOD BY THE ferry dock. Crystal agreed to turn off her phone until we could decide what to do.

“Stud Mahoney was adopted, Buck. That’s why he’s here.”

She fell into my arms. Sobs wracked her body as I held her close and tried to think of what to say. The situation was spiraling out of control, fast, and there was no point in feigning optimism. So I just held her until she cried herself out, her face buried in my neck.

Her hair smelled of jasmine. I breathed it in deeply, turned my head down, and gave her a soft quick kiss on the cheek.

Crystal broke free, wiped away tears, and looked away from me.

“I have to get to Jost Van Dyke,” she said. “I’m so worried about John, but what can I do? I have to try to keep things together so when they find him we can…we can…”

“Carry on with the show?” My voice was a near whisper.

“Right. Yes.” She was still dabbing at her eyes.

“I’ll stay here and see what I can find out about John and Stud Mahoney. You focus on keeping the celebrities on board.”

Her shoulders slumped.

My hand never left her back as we went inside and bought her a ticket on the next ferry. It left for Tortola in fifteen minutes. She’d clear Customs there and take the next one to Jost Van Dyke.

Back outside, I walked her to the canopied waiting area. She hadn’t said a word. Confused emotions paralyzed my tongue.

“I