Diamond Reef
Page 23
Peterson's face contorted in confusion, but he obeyed and followed me out of the Manta and down the stairs.
"You're taking me to the bathroom?" he asked, with hints of curiosity and caution.
"Yeah," I replied.
Peterson watched me climb onto the toilet and pull the black backpack from the ceiling.
"Chase, what the hell is going on?" he insisted.
"I found your blackmailers," I told him, handing the bag to him.
"I told you not to." His voice was stern.
"I can keep it," I suggested, opening the bag.
He stared at the stacks of bills. "How did you do it?" he asked.
"It wasn't hard," I said. "In fact, I would guess you knew who they were."
"I..." he stammered.
"The video is on a flash drive in the bag," I told him. "I'm sure they won't bother you again."
"Did you watch it?" His voice trembled.
"I didn't watch it," I assured him. "I like you, Wilson, and I don't want to not like you."
His head bobbed like a toddler caught writing on the wall. He looked relieved.
"That being said," I continued. "I left them a little cash, besides what they may have spent, and a promise you wouldn't pursue them in any way."
He listened intently.
"Is that good?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he breathed quickly. He opened the bag and stared at the bundles of hundred-dollar bills. He pulled one out and handed it to me.
Staring at $10,000 of banded bills that could slip in my pocket made my mouth salivate. With the money I made off him so far and this wad of cash, I could spend a year or more away from land.
"This isn't a bribe," I told him. "Or any type of extortion."
"No it's not," he assured me. "You helped me out. Consider this payment for a service."
My hand gently wrapped around the stack of bills.
"I need to take this someplace," he said, holding up the bag.
"Yeah, I wouldn't feel too comfortable with it in my possession," I said, thinking about the other day when the kid was following me around.
Peterson scurried out of the restroom, leaving me alone and feeling a little dirtier than when I entered. I stuffed the cash into my pocket. It would wait until I could lock it up on Carina with the other seven grand Peterson gave me.
Jay and Bombay Sapphire were much closer and more intimate. She was ignoring her phone completely now.. I made another gin cocktail for her. The two were so engaged, she never registered me giving her another drink.
I passed around the bar to see Julio Moreno and Scar sitting on the other side of the bar. I didn't see them come in, and I stiffened for a second.
"Señor Gordon," Moreno greeted me. "I would like a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, please."
I glanced at Scar. "He's driving," Moreno explained.
He wasn't specific about what Cabernet he wanted, so I picked the highest end Cab we had in the bar. He wasn't a boxed wine kind of guy, I was certain of that. I returned to the two men with the wine.
"Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Moreno?"
"I never suspected that you were a bartender," he commented. "Do you make a good mojito?"
"Damned good."
"I saw you on the news today," he said. "The little girl that was kidnapped? She was Señor Locke's niña?"
I didn't respond at first. I weighed how to handle the man. Eventually, I said, "Tristan's dead. Those two guys killed him."
Moreno nodded. "A shame," he said.
"I'm sorry about your money."
"It is the danger of doing business," Moreno contemplated. "Sometimes, there is a loss."
"I hope that his family won't be having any problems in the future." My tone was solemn with less than subtle hints of warning.
"No," he replied, "I don't foresee that happening. A man's mistakes should not fall on his children."
He sipped the wine. His face indicated he found it acceptable. "However, Señor Gordon," he said, "I have a proposition for you."
"I'm not looking for any new propositions," I said wistfully.
"Hear me out," he insisted. "You have shown you are quite capable. Someone with your talents could make a great deal of money with me. I need someone dependable like you."
I smiled. "No, thank you."
"It would be much more money than you make mixing mojitos."
"I have no doubt," I said, "but if I screw up a drink here, the owner doesn't threaten to kill me if I don't pay for it."
"It's not like that," Moreno tried to explain.
"No, Mr. Moreno, it's pretty close. I like my life the way it is now. No need to complicate matters."
He shrugged. "If you ever find yourself in a different frame of mind, then you know where you can find me."
"Since we are on such good terms now," I joked, "I might come down to try the... What was it called? Boliche?"
He grinned and looked to Scar, whose face had been stone during the entire conversation. "He would like it, don't you think?"
Scar's head made one quick bob. I thought the henchman looked relieved I turned down Moreno's offer.
"Señor Gordon, you will be my guest," he said. "Anytime."
Moreno drank his wine in two large gulps. "We will be leaving, Señor Gordon."
"You might as well call me Chase," I told him.
"Chase," he repeated. He looked at Scar and said, "Pay the check, Esteban."
"No," I decided, "that glass is on me."
Moreno tilted his head in acknowledgment before standing. Scar tossed a folded bill onto the bar as they walked out of the exit facing the marina. I picked up the hundred-dollar bill from the bar. I had come to some unspoken agreement with Moreno. As long as there was no bad blood between us, I thought I could sleep better.
Two more tables came in while I was talking to Moreno, and Kristy was waiting on me to make drinks. I was midway through mixing a Moscow Mule when Missy stepped into the bar to survey the crowd. She gave the room a broad sweep with her eyes, but they settled on me. We exchanged half-smiles, and I turned to tray up the Mules and toss a half wedge of lime in each mug.
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Other books by Douglas Pratt
Bloody History
Blood Remembered
Baptism of Blood
Blood Stained
Crimson Blood
Blood River
Blood and Roses
Blood Pools
Delayed Indefinitely
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