Page 49 of Camino Ghosts

“For Panther Cay.”

“For Panther Cay, and after Panther Cay there will be another one. This is Florida.”

“I love it. More books are sold per capita in Florida than any other state. Don’t forget that. The population is a bit older and folks like to read.”

“I bought a hundred books from you last year. Hardbacks, no discount.”

“God bless you. And I’ll bet your bookshelves are beautiful.”

“Indeed they are. And the dirt?”

“Well, small world. The guy building Ms. Snow’s fancy new condo is none other than Lenny Salazar, son of the judge.”

“Didn’t know she had a son. She’s divorced, right?”

“Yes, a long time ago. She doesn’t live on the island so I don’t know much about her.”

“What’s your angle?”

“I don’t have one. That’s your world. I’m just a small-town bookseller.” He took a bite and chewed. “But I wonder who owns Old Dunes.”

“I thought it was some Texas swinger.”

“Maybe, maybe not. The first newspaper story said it was a Houston company with an office in Tallahassee. I called Sid at The Register and he knew little. Might be worth digging into.”

“Wait a minute. You’re not thinking it might be Tidal Breeze?”

Bruce was nodding.

4.

At four that afternoon, Steven returned to the bookstore and brought Diane with him. They found Bruce in the rear stockroom, boxing up unsold books to return to the warehouse, an unpleasant task that he refused to delegate. He still opened every box of new books and placed them on display with great confidence that they would be sold, read, and enjoyed. Six months later, he sadly sent some back in defeat.

Steven and Diane collected espressos at the upstairs coffee bar and waited for Bruce at a quiet corner table. When he climbed the stairs, he ordered a latte and sat down. “This must be serious,” he said with a smile.

“Diane’s on the trail,” Steven replied.

“It’s not much of a trail, yet,” Diane said. “The land for Old Dunes was purchased five years ago by a Houston company that set up a new corporation in Florida. It has done business here before, primarily in the Naples area. It leased an office in Orlando and went to work, got all the permits and approvals, promised to be good boys and productive citizens. So far, no complaints. The Texas guys have a nice reputation for building quality resorts, hotels, golf courses, the works. It’s a private corporation so not much in the way of public records, though I did track down some of their other developments and learned that they prefer to build, then hold and manage themselves. Not in the habit of flipping. However, in September of last year, they sold Old Dunes to a company registered in the Bahamas. Proper paperwork was filed here by the new owner, Hibiscus Partners. Couldn’t find a thing about them. Like a lot of offshore havens, the Bahamians keep things private, for a nice fee, of course. Then, in early October Hibiscus sold Old Dunes to Rio Glendale, and the weeds get thicker. Rio Glendale is registered on the tiny Caribbean island of Montserrat, a rather notorious haven for shady corporations and tax evaders.”

“I’ve never heard of Montserrat,” Bruce said.

“They advertise in travel magazines and that’s about it.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s a British territory, down the road from Nevis and St. Kitts.”

“Sorry I asked.”

“Most of it was destroyed by a volcano a few years back.”

“And they call it a haven?”

“Anyway, it’s impossible to penetrate the record-keeping on the island, same as the other Caribbean fronts.”

“So, another dead end?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Diane was in her element, slowly peeling the onion. “You might not be surprised to learn that Tidal Breeze has a history of tax troubles. I’ve found two newspaper articles about dust-ups with the IRS, and both led to investigations in the Bahamas and Cayman Islands.”

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