Deep Dirty Truth

by Steph Broadribb

  Up at the helm, Red’s showing Dakota how to steer the boat. She’s grinning, laughing, her long strawberry-blonde hair loose and whipping around her face in the sea breeze. She’s caught the sun from being out here on the ocean – more freckles now dust her nose and her arms. He wonders if she always gets freckles in the summer. Regrets he doesn’t know the answer. There’s still so much to catch up on; the first nine years of her life. He wishes he hadn’t missed it all.

  He knows he shouldn’t blame Lori for not telling him she was pregnant, not after how things ended between them all those years back. He’d pushed her away, hurt her, blaming her for what happened when they apprehended her husband, even though he knew she’d had no choice. He was too stubborn to reach out and make things right. The truth is, he was worried he’d gotten in too deep with her. Back then, emotional detachment and a pure job focus were more important to him. Now he’s not so sure. Dakota laughs and JT smiles again. He’s happy they’ve got this time together at least.

  The roar of an engine jerks him from his thoughts. Turning, he squints into the distance and sees there’s a white speedboat approaching them fast. It’s not showing any signs of changing course.

  ‘Looks like trouble,’ JT shouts to Red, pointing at the craft.

  Red puts his hand up to shield his eyes and looks out across the sea. ‘This is a long way from shore for a boat like that.’

  JT’s got a bad feeling. He needs to limit the risk to his daughter. Leaping to his feet, he gestures to Dakota. ‘Follow the drill.’

  She moves fast this time; now she knows that they’re in danger. He’s explained the situation to her, and she knows that if the bad men find them it will get ugly. She’s brave, and he’s proud of that. Smart too, like her momma. She’ll go into the cabin, get her life preserver, then open the safe-space closet and crawl inside. She’s safest from bullets there. She knows to stay hidden until JT or Red come tell her they’re free and clear.

  Be prepared, always; that’s one of JT’s rules. He’s never had to plan contingency moves with a child, but what he said seemed to stick. Seems now they’ll put their preparedness to the test.

  He glances back towards the speedboat. It’s gaining on them. He turns to Red. ‘This thing go any faster?’

  ‘Nope, she’s at top speed. We can’t outrun them.’

  ‘I’ll get the weapons.’

  Red pulls a keychain from the pocket of his blue board shorts and throws it across to JT. ‘Pull the cushion off the middle bench seat.’

  JT catches the keychain, and does as Red says, yanking the cushion away and lifting a lid to reveal the under-seat storage. Inside is a metal lockbox. Using the only key on the keychain, he unlocks it and removes a rifle and a handgun.

  He hurries over to Red at the helm. Holds up the guns. ‘This all you got?’

  Red nods. ‘I don’t usually have need for firearms. I’ll take the rifle. It’s old, but serviceable.’ He looks back across the ocean towards the speedboat. ‘There’s ammo in the lockbox. Get us loaded.’

  JT follows his gaze. The boat’s maybe a couple of thousand yards away and showing no signs of slowing. At this distance he can’t tell how many people are on board. Grabbing the bullets, he loads the two weapons.

  At the helm, Red’s still gunning the engine, steering the Liberty away from the path of the speedboat. The water’s choppier, the bumps as they breach each wave more jarring. Struggling to keep his balance, JT scoots across the deck and round to Red. Hands him the rifle and a box of ammo. ‘You’re ready to go.’

  ‘Won’t be long now.’

  JT turns. The speedboat is fifty yards and closing. There are four big men on board – the heavies from the marina. They’ve all got guns, and they’re pointed at the Liberty. Next minute, they open fire.

  ‘Get down,’ JT dives for cover as Red leaps behind a bulkhead.

  Bullets splinter the green wooden livery where JT was standing. He raises his gun and shoots; hits one guy in the chest and another in the shoulder.

  But they’re still coming, accelerating fast.

  Red’s firing the rifle, not hitting any of them. Damn. JT shoots again, but the heavies are wise to him now, ducked down behind the windshield. He shatters the glass with one shot, then peppers a line of holes in the hull. Dives for cover as the heavies return fire. Reloads.

  ‘Give it up,’ shouts one of the mob guys.

  JT doesn’t answer. Won’t surrender to men like that. Fires a couple more shots then ducks for shelter as they come back at him hard and fast. Bullets hit the boat and ping into the water around them.

  The Liberty lurches right. JT glances over at Red and sees he’s steering the boat around, taking it around the speedboat. He doesn’t know why. ‘What are you—?’

  ‘Keep them occupied.’ Red says. It’s an order. His focus remains on the speedboat.

  JT squints over the side. Three heavies are still standing in the speedboat; they’ve only taken one down. He cusses. This isn’t working. He needs to think of something more.

  Raising his gun, he fires until he’s out of bullets. Reloads again.

  The Liberty is now level with the back of the speedboat. Red turns, hands off the wheel, and fires the rifle at the back of the boat. JT doesn’t get what he’s doing – all the heavies are in the front.

  Two shots later he understands.

  The explosion is loud and dramatic. Flames plume into the air. The heat is hot as hellfire. The heavies yell as the speedboat fractures, the backend incinerated from the explosion. The front sinking fast.

  Red guns the Liberty’s engine, speeding them away. JT can see three of the heavies in the water, floundering. Drowning but not dead, yet. He stares at them, thinking.

  ‘You want me to keep going?’

  Red’s voice pulls JT from his thoughts. Only two of the men are still shouting from the water. Miles from anywhere out here in the ocean they won’t last long. The sharks will have them if their injuries don’t. JT thinks of Dakota. He can’t go back and rescue men like that; mob men who’d put a bullet in a child if ordered to. Nope. He just can’t.

  ‘Yup. Keep going,’ JT says, standing and walking over to Red. He pats the older guy on the back. ‘Great work back there. I thought they had us.’

  Red nods. ‘Couldn’t let them get to the little one.’ His expression’s still serious-looking, but there’s relief in his tone. ‘Boat like that, chances were the fuel tanks would be on the back. Out this far they had to be carrying plenty of gas.’

  ‘Appreciate it.’

  ‘I don’t need appreciation. Lori’s helped me from a tight spot often enough, least I can do is help keep her baby girl safe.’

  JT nods and takes the rifle, packing it and the handgun back into the lockbox with the remaining bullets. He locks up, puts the seating back to normal and straightens up.

  Looking out towards the wreck of the speedboat he sees fins cutting through the debris around the men. Keeps watching as the sharks clean up. Clenches his jaw as the men’s shouts are silenced. Finally, the last man disappears beneath the water and doesn’t resurface.

  With a rueful shake of his head, JT goes into the cabin to tell Dakota it’s safe.

  43

  SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 22nd, 16:32

  I sure don’t want to go back to the Everglades. I turn away from North, thinking about what he told me before; how every year on the same date the Old Man makes a three-day pilgrimage to the site where his brother died. How he only takes his two most trusted men. That he turns off all communication.

  I cuss out loud, the sound immediately lost in the rattle of the door, the thundering of the wheels on the rails, the sound of air whistling through the gaps in the carriages vents. Try as I might, I can’t deny the sense in North’s thinking. If we can get to Everglades City we’ve got a better chance of having the Old Man hear us out than in a temper-fuelled reunion, with Luciano and the Feds snapping at our heels.

  I look back to North. Nod once. ‘Alright,
I’m in. But I want to know exactly how you’re planning to turn the Old Man against Luciano. You said you have something on him; I need to know what.’

  ‘I wondered when you’d get around to asking me about that,’ North says.

  ‘Didn’t seem the right time when the bullets where flying.’

  He tilts his head to the side and studies me for a beat. ‘You’ve sure changed a lot since I met you ten years ago. It’s since you hooked up with that bounty hunter I’m guessing.’

  I frown at him. ‘Women change all the time, what makes you think it’s due to a man? Don’t you think a girl can grow all of her own accord?’

  North raises his eyebrows, surprised by the comeback. ‘I didn’t mean that. I just … Do you ever consider running away from danger instead of towards it?’

  ‘A lot of times.’

  North makes a show of looking around the carriage. ‘Yet here we are.’

  I frown. Don’t get his meaning. ‘And just what are you saying?’

  ‘You’ve been bounty hunting a while, Lori. And I’ve heard you’re real good. Hell, these last couple of days I’ve seen that you’re good. But although you claim you don’t like the violence and all, you’re still in the game.’ He squints at me, like he’s trying to puzzle something out. ‘Way I see it, you wouldn’t keep playing the game if you didn’t like the taste of blood.’

  ‘I like the taste of justice, not blood.’

  ‘Sometimes they’re the same thing.’

  I shake my head. ‘No. You’re wrong.’

  ‘What about your husband, Tommy?’ North’s words are said without judgement but are damning enough in themselves. ‘You fired on him until the gun was empty, and he was the man you said you’d love and cherish.’

  I clench my jaw. Remember how Tommy had knocked the idealistic love from me punch by punch. ‘I guess I hadn’t figured on him cherishing me with his fists.’

  ‘I’m not saying you were wrong, Lori. I’m just checking I got the facts straight. You shot him, then you and your boyfriend dumped him in a shallow grave. It was a bloody kind of justice.’

  ‘Wasn’t meant to go down that way.’

  ‘You tracked him to that lodge. The pair of you worked as a team, had the front and rear exits covered. You could have—’

  ‘He got the drop on JT inside the lodge. When I blocked his exit, Tommy came at me, went to draw his weapon. He meant to kill me. I had no choice but to—’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How the hell could you possibly know? It was just the three of us. There were no witnesses.’

  ‘And yet the Old Man found out who killed Tommy.’

  I stare at North, not speaking, as the parts of the jigsaw that have never fit together right suddenly slot into place. ‘It was … You were there?’

  ‘Kind of.’

  ‘Meaning what? Why are you so interested in knowing if you’ve got the facts right about something that happened ten years ago?’

  He says nothing.

  I let the silence hang between us; there is only the noise of the wheels on the rails and the rattling of the carriage. I’m determined to wait it out until he answers my question.

  Finally North shakes his head. ‘I had the place rigged with cameras. I was close by, in an old duck hide in the woods, a little ways back from the lake. I saw the whole thing play out, first on camera, then when your man dragged Tommy’s body through the trees to bury him.’

  I cuss again. Scoot across the floor, away from North. ‘You told the Old Man it was me. You bastard.’

  ‘Lori, I…’ He looks guilty, like a dog that’s been caught thieving, and steps after me, trying to coax me back. ‘I needed leverage over Luciano, something important that would get the Old Man over more to my way of thinking.’

  I put my hands up, warning him away. I need more distance between us than the freight carriage can provide. ‘No! You stay away.’ My voice is louder now, my fury at him makes it feel like I’m spitting fire with every word. ‘My family, my child, is in danger because of you. I should have let Luciano’s men kill you back in Missingdon. You deserved it.’

  ‘And there it is.’ He gives a rueful shrug, and a smug little smile.

  I glare at him. ‘What?’

  ‘You want my blood now.’

  ‘I…’ I start to argue, then stop. It’s true. Right now I want revenge rather than justice. But I don’t Taser him, or pull a gun. Instead I say through gritted teeth. ‘I’m. Not. Like. You.’

  North holds my gaze a long moment, and I think he’s going to argue. Then he drops his eyes and says, ‘I know.’

  ‘Then what is this, some kind of messed-up confessional?’

  ‘You needed to know it was me. You’ve saved my hide a few times now. Didn’t feel right you not knowing the truth.’

  ‘Yeah. And I did save you.’ I step back towards him. Put my hands on my hips and look him straight in the eye. ‘So, seeing as you’re the asshole who got me into this situation with the Old Man, I’m real keen to hear your grand plan for getting me out.’

  North picks up his messenger bag and unbuckles the fastener. Pulling out the iPad he switches it on. ‘I sent the copies of the spreadsheets and accounts that the FBI had seized from the files of the accountant Luciano killed to my email. They show all the money Luciano has stolen from the Old Man.’

  ‘You said even with hard evidence it mightn’t be enough for the Old Man, that he might not believe it was Luciano and there’s a risk he’ll talk his way out.’

  ‘True, but if he checks his accounts against the files he’ll know someone’s been stealing from him.’

  ‘What’s to say Luciano won’t try putting the blame on you?’

  North gestures to the iPad. ‘That’s why I needed this. I didn’t go rogue – I’m still loyal to the Old Man. I’d been watching Luciano for a long time, even when I first met you I was aware he was doing something underhand.’

  ‘That’s over ten years ago.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’ Emotion clouds his expression, but it’s difficult to tell what he’s thinking. ‘What I’m about to show you will force the Old Man to believe me when I say I was protecting him, that I’ve always been protecting him. It’s taken a long time to piece everything together, but I’ve got it all now. I was his number two. Even if he decides to end me himself, he does things the old way – he’ll listen to what I have to say first.’ North taps the iPad. ‘And when he sees this, he’ll realise you have no debt to pay.’

  I frown, not understanding North’s meaning. Whatever he has on the tablet, I still killed Tommy. ‘Tommy was still like a son to him though.’

  ‘Yeah, like a carbon copy of his lying, cheating, murderous son who wants to kill his own father and take over the family business.’

  ‘What?’ I stare at North. ‘Show me.’

  He presses the iPad’s screen and turns it around to face me.

  I gasp as I recognise the interior of the lodge by the lake out by Big Mo’s Fishing Shack. It’s the place JT and me tracked my husband Tommy down in months after he’d skipped town after Sal’s murder. ‘What is this?’

  ‘Just keep watching. You’ll see.’

  I do as he says. The picture quality is grainy but passable. It’s in black and white rather than colour, but there’s audio too. The date in the bottom corner of the screen puts the time at a few days before the day I killed Tommy.

  The camera is fixed above what must be a mirror or a painting on the wall in the wooden-clad open living space of the cabin. There’s a blanket-covered couch, a small kitchen table with two chairs and a line of basic kitchen units with a two-ring stove and oven beneath. At first the room is empty. A few seconds later the door opens and two figures enter.

  I inhale sharply as I recognise Tommy. Unshaven, with a dark sweater and jacket over his usual cargo pants, and his hair a little longer than the norm, he looks more unkempt than was usually the case, but it’s unmistakably him. As he closes the door I get a proper look at the man
behind him. ‘Shit.’

  Wearing a ball cap, jeans and a heavy jacket over a sweater, he’s younger and leaner, for sure, but it’s definitely him – Luciano Bonchese.

  I turn to North. ‘What is this?’

  ‘Tommy and Luciano were very close. They truly were like brothers, in a way he and I never were. Keep watching.’

  I do as he says, even though my I feel breathless from the shock of seeing Tommy again. My knees are shaking.

  Tommy closes the door. ‘It’s done. Now you need to make my problem go away.’

  ‘It’s in hand.’ Luciano strides over to the refrigerator and grabs a beer from the icebox. ‘Just sit tight a few more days and you’ll be clear.’

  Tommy does that thing where he runs his hand through his hair but keeps it on his head a while longer than necessary. Usually means he’s suspicious. ‘How though? There’s warrants out on me, and I heard that fucker bounty hunter ain’t giving up.’

  Luciano grabs a second beer and passes it to Tommy. ‘Details, bro. Don’t worry about them. I’ve got your back.’

  Tommy seems pacified. He twists the cap off the beer and knocks his bottle against Luciano’s. ‘Just promise me, when we take the Old Man down, I’ll be the one to end North.’

  Luciano laughs. Raises his beer in a salute. ‘He’s all yours, bro.’

  I watch as they swig their beers, grab a bag of chips, and then flop down at the kitchen table. With them hunched over the table, it’s harder to hear the conversation. The audio has become muffled and patchy, but from the snippets I do hear I get a feel for the wretched plan they’ve hatched.

  I wrap my arms around myself. Swallow hard. It seems, even now, even after beating on me and killing my best friend, that my long-dead husband is able to shock me bad.

  Looking back at North I say, ‘They were going to kill the Old Man and all the men loyal to him?’

  ‘Yup. Complete takeover,’ North says. ‘They’d been planning it a while.’

  I rub my brow. ‘They were ready to act. Why didn’t it happen?’