"What do we know?" Webb asked his crew. After the dressing-down they all received from Doctor Armando about their failures, they had worked the rest of the day running down leads and reassembled in the Verdanx Pharma conference room to coordinate. The sun had set and the clock on the wall displayed ten after seven. All of them were tired and cranky. The room reeked of their collective body odor.
Webb's second in command, Danno Holt, ran a hand over his bald head. His nose resembled a bird's beak which put Webb in mind of a raptor. "We've been able to ferret out some information." He pointed to the screen attached to a laptop and brought up the image of a tall, slender man surrounded by much bigger men as they walked down a street.
"That's Milos Argyros and his goombahs," Claudia pointed out. Her dreadlocks hung loose over a red leather jump suit she had changed into. "He's a Greek tycoon who has business interests in many of the Tarpon Springs establishments, the connection being he is the ex-husband of Marnie Korfu."
Webb had assigned himself the task of running down who had lived in the apartment where Cassandra Drakos had taken refuge. He also researched who owned the building. "So, the landlord and the tenant are ex-spouses. Interesting."
"There's more," Claudia said. "When I ran a background on Milos, I discovered his brother named Adrian, now deceased, was Mya Drakos's husband and Cassandra's father."
The connections had come together. "Our girl, Cassandra, is the niece of Milos and Marnie. It makes sense how she would call on her aunt to rescue her. Her aunt would be aware of the danger to the girl and understand the urgency to run."
Danno faked a gag. "One of those things had a husband? Can you imagine having sex with a creature like what we saw splayed out on the cutting table?"
Claudia pointed an accusing finger at him. "You would have. Mya Drakos was quite the looker in her un-transformed state."
Webb ran a hand over his facial stubble. It had been two days since he had last shaved. "The question is, where would Marnie take her niece, to her uncle Milos maybe?"
"I would bet my next paycheck on it," Nico said. "Take it from me, a Greek. Our families are tight and clannish. We rally around any family member in trouble. They would have gone to him for protection, especially since he's a powerful patriarch."
Webb studied the image of the man on the screen. "Claudia, you say he's a successful tycoon. Are all of his businesses above board?"
She scoffed. "Hell no. The Florida State Police have an open case file on the guy a mile long. Among other things, he allegedly runs an underground railroad of sorts funneling illegals up the coast."
"Allegedly?"
"Law enforcement can't prove anything. He has a reputation for fairness. He never abuses the people he helps and genuinely helps them. In return, they and their families stay silent. Of course, he's well-paid for his services."
Razzy Scott, the Seminole of few words, chuckled. "How about that, a criminal with scruples."
"Don't get the wrong idea," Claudia went on. "Milos Argyros is not a gentleman. He's not opposed to using strongarm tactics when it suits him. He's pressured quite a few local business owners to grant him part ownership in their enterprises. Again, nothing can be proven because legal documents are all signed and proper."
Webb couldn't see how that information would be helpful in locating Cassandra. "What about his legal businesses? What does he use as a front? How does he launder his money?"
Danno raised his hand as if asking for permission to speak. "As you know, Tarpon Springs is the sponge capital of the world. Milos controls the sponge industry. He's got a lock on it. I suspect a lot of his money gets funneled through that enterprise."
"What else?"
"He owns real estate up and down Florida's Gulf coast, mostly condos."
Bingo. If Milos was hiding Cassandra, it would be at one of his properties. "Put together a list. We'll split up the properties and visit each one. I want to know who lives at each location and if they have any connection to the Argyros family."
He glanced at the clock on the wall. "But that can wait until tomorrow. Well-done everyone, despite what that asshole Doctor Armando says. Now, go get some sleep."
None of them had to be told twice. Webb left the building with the others and got into his car. Fortunately for him, he lived in suburban Tampa and his house was only twenty-five miles away. His crew lived scattered throughout the country and were staying at a local hotel. He felt blessed to be able to go home to his wife and little boy to take his mind off the bizarre case.
Webb pulled into his garage. Before he had a chance to open the car door, his little boy, Brandon bolted from the kitchen wearing a big smile and holding an oversized sheet of paper. Webb opened the door slowly so as not to bash it into his son.
"What do you have there?"
Brandon waved the paper all around. "We did finger painting in school."
His son had just started Kindergarten and seemed to be taking to it well. He took the paper and inspected the blue and red squiggles on the page.
"Our house!" Brandon exclaimed.
"You have to use your imagination," his wife, Bonnie said. She leaned against the door frame leading into the house.
"Play ball with me," Brandon pleaded, forgetting about the finger painting, typical of a five-year-old's attention span.
Bonnie stepped forward and took her son's hand. "It's already dark outside and your Daddy needs to eat supper. Maybe tomorrow morning."
Webb sighed. He needed to get started visiting the Argyros properties first thing. He'd be gone before Brandon woke. In this job, he was gone too often and for extended periods of time. He was missing his son grow up.
He tried to act interested when his son told him all about his experiences in Kindergarten, but Webb could barely keep his eyes open.
Later, after Bonnie put Brandon to bed, she joined him in the living room. He had the TV on for noise but wasn't paying attention. He couldn't take his mind off the horror in Doctor Armando's lab.
Bonnie turned off the TV and joined him on the sofa. "I've seen you out of sorts before while working on a case, but I don't think I've ever seen you this distant. Want to talk about it?"
Even if he could divulge sensitive information to his wife, he wouldn't. Not this case. It was too weird, too much like a horror movie. "When I was with the Seal team, I never questioned the morality of the things I did. Everything was clear cut, black and white. We were the good guys fighting the bad guys."
Bonnie regarded him but said nothing. Webb realized she would get more out of him by staying quiet. After ten years of marriage, his wife knew how to handle him.
He yawned. "This case, it's not black and white." No indeed. Capturing and turning over an eleven-year-old girl to be tortured by Doctor Armando was not something he signed up for when joining Tipstaff Security. He had seen the creature Cassandra might eventually become, but what of it? Did her kind represent a threat? Not hardly. Even if these women were a different species, they lived peaceable lives under the radar. They were law-abiding and paid their taxes.
He really needed sleep. "Bonnie, it's not black and white, and I can't justify my actions when there are shades of gray. I guess I'm suffering a crisis of conscience, and I don't know if I can do this anymore."
"Then don't," she said. "You've served long enough defending our country. You've done your duty. You are forty-two, still young enough to start a new career. Besides, it sure would be nice to have you around more often than a few nights a week."
She said it with no animosity in her tone, no bitterness, but he knew it pained her that he wasn't around, often for days at a time.
Although bone tired, he experienced a moment of clarity. He took Bonnie's hand. "You're right. It's time. After seeing this case through I'll quit."
He kissed the back of his wife's hand. "That's a promise."
Question: Webb continues to question his mission. What will he do when the time comes to capture Cassie?