by Tripp Ellis
"That's exactly why I'm not talking to your ass."
"Okay. I guess you’d rather get cut up in the street?”
"I don't know nothing about that."
"Sure you do."
The dealer didn't say anything.
I noticed an ant pile not too far away. Red ants swarmed about the mound, and there was a long line across the patio to the carcass of a dead bird.
I dragged the dealer through the grass and shoved his face millimeters from the swarming insects.
"Man, what the fuck are you doing? You crazy!"
"Start talking."
"This is like, harassment, or something."
"You ran from an officer, fell into an ant pile. That's what I recall." I shoved his face even closer.
His eyes widened as the crawly things scampered around his nostrils and eyes.
"Alright. Alright. Just get me away from these mother fuckers!“
I yanked his face away from the mound, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Diego was a low-level dealer. Mostly street stuff. But the last couple weeks he started moving higher end product. Dealing in higher volume."
"Do you know who killed him?"
"I don't know. He must have pissed somebody off. Stepped on some toes. You know how it is."
"You fucking with me?"
"No, man. I'm telling you everything I know."
"What about his gang? Los Sombríos Segadores."
"Bunch of punks."
"Whose toes was he stepping on?" I asked.
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me. You know damn good and well whose toes he would have been stepping on."
He hesitated a moment. "I don't really know, and I don't want to know. But the cartels have been moving in here. I'm so low volume that nobody gives a shit about what I do. But you start moving kilos, you’ve got plenty of people that want a piece of that action."
"Which cartel?"
"I don’t know. They didn’t hand out business cards.”
I decided I had gotten all the information out of him I was going to get. I unlatched the cuffs and let him go. He didn't waste any time getting the hell away from me.
Instead of hopping the fence, I walked to the gate and out to the street. I called JD and told him where I was. A moment later the red Porsche whipped around the corner.
I climbed into the passenger seat and JD laid down some rubber. I told him everything I had learned. It was disconcerting to think the cartels were getting more active in Coconut Key.
24
“We’re just in time to catch happy hour at Blowfish,” JD said.
I shook my head. “No. Somebody will spit in our food.”
JD’s face crinkled. “I’m on good terms with Lily now.”
“Don’t you mean Kaylee?”
“Her too. We worked everything out.”
My eyes narrowed at him.
“They’re not mad. In fact, the three of us got together one night.”
I gave him a skeptical glance.
“For real. Ask them if you don’t believe me.”
I sighed. “You’re buying.”
“Of course.”
Blowfish was an upscale sushi bar, where the fish was fresh, and the women even fresher. Leggy ladies with sheer stockings, stiletto heels, and tight black leotards that somehow looked like formal attire.
“Table for two?” the hostess asked as we stepped into the establishment.
JD nodded.
“Right this way, Mr. Donovan.”
She sat us at a table in the back, and within a few moments, Kaylee appeared, ready to take our order. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
“Tell him you’re not mad,” JD said.
“Why would I be mad? You have to care about somebody to be mad at them.” She smiled, then glanced to me. “You, on the other hand. I’m mad at you.”
I shrugged innocently. “Why me?”
“You never called me.”
JD eyed me curiously.
"Did you two hook up?"
"No!"
Kaylee smacked my arm playfully with the menu. "You didn't have to tell him that. You could have let him stew in it for a little bit."
I shrugged.
"Just because we haven't, doesn't mean we won't," she said with a hopeful glint in her eye, trying to make JD jealous.
Jack tried to act casual. "You two can do whatever you want. It's fine by me."
She huffed and her eyes narrowed at him, disappointed at his apparent lack of concern.
"So, is the food safe, or do we need to go somewhere else?" JD asked.
"Are you afraid you might die from eating bad blowfish?” she said with a sinister glare.
JD frowned at her.
"Do you guys know what you want?"
"I can think of a few things,” Jack said with a grin.
"Sorry, Jack. That ship has sailed.” She smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m on to bigger fish."
He rolled his eyes.
"I'll take a Kirin Light," I said.
"The same," JD added.
"I'll have two orders of salmon sushi, an order of otoro, and a California roll," I said.
"Spicy tuna roll, edamame, unagi, and two otoro."
"Are you sure you don't want to try the blowfish?" Kaylee asked with that sinister glint again.
JD smiled. "Maybe later."
Kaylee took our menus and turned our order into the sushi chefs.
"She's trying to get a rise out of me, but it's not going to work,” JD said. "You can hit it if you want to. It's not going to bother me."
"Sorry. I don't need to follow in your footsteps."
He laughed.
Kaylee returned a moment later with our beer.
I took a sip and leaned back in the booth. It had been a hell of a few days.
A flash of recognition washed across JD's face. "Well, I'll be a son of a bitch. You know, it's been bugging me for the last hour."
"What?"
"The gang tattoo.”
“The reaper design. It's the same as the ones on the assassins that you described."
“Yeah, I know.”
"Glenn Parker's partner… His deckhand, what the hell was his name? Carlos? He had that same damn tattoo."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive.
"You think all of this is connected?"
"Damn right I do.”
"We should go back and have another chat with Carlos. We could get the Coast Guard to search the boat."
"That may not be a bad idea,” JD said. “But I think we should apply some subtle tactics first."
"What do you have in mind?"
A sly grin curled on JD's lips. "You'll see."
We sipped our beers, and Kaylee returned with our food. As always, it was like someone had just pulled it from the ocean, carved it up, and served it.
Jack paid the tab when we were finished, and once again, Kaylee gave me her phone number on a napkin. She leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Use it this time. Or I might serve you bad blowfish."
I chuckled and slipped the number in my pocket, having no intention of ever using it.
JD said he had to pick something up from his house, so we stopped by. Scarlett was on the couch watching TV. Her eyes brightened when she saw me. She sprang off the couch, ran to me, and flung her arms around my neck.
"What, no hug for me?" JD asked, with a sad look on his face.
I could tell a sassy comment was about to come out of Scarlett’s mouth, but she thought better of it. She gave JD a hug as well. "I see you all the time. I don't see Tyson that much."
JD’s face crinkled. "You see him all the time too.”
"He saved my ass on more than one occasion."
"I've been saving your ass since you were knee-high to a grasshopper."
Scarlett rolled her eyes again.
“You remember who paid your attorney’s fees, don't you?"
"Thank you, Jack."
<
br /> He muttered to me. "It's Daddy when she wants something. It's Jack when she has no use for me."
Scarlett huffed and plopped back down on the couch. "He's so dramatic."
"Are you staying out of trouble?" I asked.
"Yes. And I'm bored to tears."
"Good," JD said. "We like boring."
Jack disappeared into his bedroom.
I asked Scarlett how she was holding up. She put on a good exterior. But she had been through a lot, and her close friend, Sadie, had died.
"I have mandatory drug and alcohol counseling and meetings. They’ve got me picking up trash on the highway, wearing an orange vest like some kind of convict. And let me tell you, there are people way more fucked up than me at these meetings."
"Well, you did do a few extreme things," I said, putting it mildly.
"Please. I got busted with a little coke. It's not like I was sticking needles in my arm and jacking cars for money. In rehab, I met one kid that had a thousand dollar a day habit. He broke into his parents house, stole a bunch of jewelry and guns, and pawned them. His parents pressed charges. He OD’d, and he was legally dead when they brought him back."
"You OD’d.”
She scowled at me. "Not on purpose. Somebody gave me something. It's not even the same.”
"Well, I'm glad you are getting things together."
"All I do is work and watch TV. I have no social life. I will have no social life for the next two years."
"Might be time to enroll in class. You could probably get a lot of credits knocked out over the next two years without all the distractions."
"You're totally starting to sound like Jack. Please don't start to sound like Jack."
I raised my hands in surrender. "Okay. I will say no more."
She smiled. "We can talk about other things."
I searched for a topic.
“Tell me more about Bree Taylor,” she asked with bright eyes.
“There’s not much to tell.”
“I love her. She’s just so gorgeous. I mean, was so gorgeous.”
There was an uncomfortable pause as the memory of Bree came flooding back.
“Will you take me to see her new movie?”
I hesitated. “I don’t know…”
“Please,” she begged with sad eyes. “Jack won’t let me out of the house alone, unless it’s for work. You can be my chaperone.”
“That didn’t work out so well last time.”
“It’s just a movie. We’re not going to New York, or anything.”
“Maybe. Ask Jack.”
JD returned a moment later with a small device, and a devious sparkle in his eyes.
25
We headed over to the Sea Point Marina. At this time of night it was pretty dead. The moon cast a pale glow through the clouds, and the boats gently rocked on the waves. We tried to be inconspicuous as we strolled down the dock, looking for the Moby Debt.
"You know, this isn't exactly legal," I said.
Jack's face crinkled at me. "We're just intelligence gathering."
Jack glanced around the harbor like a kid about to steal something from a store shelf. He scaled the transom of the Moby Debt, activated the GPS tracking device, and affixed it to a metal plate underneath the fighting chair. Then he hopped back off the boat like nothing had happened.
As we turned and strolled back down the dock, Rick burst through the hatch into the cockpit. He held a pistol in his hand, but the tension in his face evaporated when he recognized us. "Oh, it's you. I thought I heard someone board the boat?"
"We didn't think anyone was here," JD said. "Sorry, I should have knocked louder."
Rick saw me eye his weapon.
"I keep this for self-defense. This marina is pretty safe, but now and then a boat gets stolen or broken into."
"Looks like a Bosch-Haüer XPP 9mm,” I said.
"It is," Rick replied. "You know your weapons."
"Tools of the trade."
"Want to see?" Rick asked.
"Sure."
He pressed the mag release button and, and the magazine dropped into his palm. He stuck it into a pocket, then he pulled the slide and ejected a cartridge. It bounced against the deck and rolled. With the weapon empty, and on safe, he handed me the grip.
I took the weapon from him and admired the craftsmanship.
JD and I shared a nervous glance as Rick knelt down and picked up the bullet rolling around on the teak deck. From where he was, he could probably see the tracking device, if he knew where to look.
I sniffed the barrel of the weapon. It didn't smell like it had been fired in the last few days.
I handed the pistol back to him. "That's a nice gun. Good balance."
"I like it," Rick said, holstering the weapon. "What brings you out this way?"
"How is your new deckhand working out?" I asked.
"Good. He's a hard worker. Shows up on time. I can't complain." He paused. "I mean, I do worry about his background. I know he's got a little bit of a criminal history but… everybody deserves a second chance." He paused again and surveyed us curiously. "Why? Is something wrong?"
I shrugged. "Do you know if he is still affiliated with the gangs?"
"I really don't know anything about that. I mean, once you're in, you can't really get out, can you?"
"It usually doesn't work out too well for those who try," JD said.
"There was a gang member killed earlier today," I said. "We thought maybe Carlos might have some insight."
"We've got tomorrow off, but we have another charter on Tuesday. We’ll be casting off around 8 AM, if you want to come by before then to talk to him. I don't know if he'd say anything to you, but you're welcome to try.”
“Don't say anything to him. He might get spooked and not show up for work on Tuesday," I said.
"I understand." Rick took a deep breath. "Making any headway on Glenn's case?"
“Not really."
Rick frowned. "Sorry to hear that. Listen, if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."
"You carry insurance for the business, right?" JD asked.
Rick knew where this was going. "Yes. Glenn and I purchased several policies. The boat is insured. We have a general liability policy. Then we took out a life insurance policy on each other in case something happened. I see you boys have done your homework, and I know where you're going with this. I'm the direct beneficiary of the policy. It will pay off the boat and put a little money in my pocket. So, that makes me a suspect. I get it. But insurance is not going to pay out until any questions about the nature of Glenn's demise is settled. So I stand to gain nothing as long as this goes unsolved.”
"We had to ask," JD said.
"I understand."
"Thanks for your time," I said.
We strolled back down the dock, and Rick returned to the salon.
"Think he knows we planted the device?” I asked.
"We'll see, won't we?"
"How long will that tracker work?”
"We should get a week out of that battery. Maybe two,” JD said. "I can track his movements on my phone and get alerts. Might turn up something, or might turn up nothing. We'll see if he's hitting the regular dive sites and fishing spots, or if something else is going on.“
26
"Wait! What?" I said, staring in disbelief at the glittering diamond engagement ring Madison flaunted on her finger.
My jaw dropped, and I stared at the rock in a stupor as I leaned against the bar. JD and I had decided to stop into Diver Down for one last drink.
He was just as shocked as I was.
Madison beamed with joy.
She was positively glowing—rosy cheeks and radiant skin. “Ryan asked me to marry him!”
It came out as a high-pitched squeal.
“I gathered," I said in monotone. "How long have you known this guy? Two, maybe three, weeks?"
Her smile turned into a scowl. "You are supposed to be happy for me."
"It's a little fast, don't you think?"
She shrugged, flippantly. "When you know, you know. We just clicked. What can I say?"
I tried not to explode. "What can you possibly know about this guy in three weeks?"
"Everything I need to," she said.
She pushed away from the counter and attended to another customer down the bar.
"We need to have a little discussion. There are a few things I need to tell you."
Madison ignored me.
I exchanged a glance with JD.
He shook his head. "She's not going to shoot the messenger. She's going to blow the messenger up with an atomic bomb."
I frowned at him.
I re-fixed my gaze on Madison. "Can I have a word with you?”
"Say what you gotta say." She pulled the lever on the tap and filled a glass with beer. It foamed to a frothy head as she tilted the cup. She spun around and slid it across the bar to a patron.
"I think we should discuss this in private,” I said.
She took the customer’s money, made change, and slapped it on the counter.
He left her a few dollars for a tip which she promptly scooped up and stuffed in a glass jar at the register.
Then she decided to address me again. "So, you disapprove of Ryan? Big deal. It's my life. I'll do what I want. He makes me happy."
I couldn't hold my tongue any longer. "Did he tell you he's married?"
Her eyes narrowed at me.
“Did he tell you he's got two kids?"
"I told you not to do a background check on him."
“It's a good thing I did."
Her head shifted to the side, a sure sign of my impending demise.
Her jaw protruded as she scowled, preparing to unleash the heavy artillery. "He's in the process of getting a divorce. Yes, he told me about his wife and children! He's been transparent with me from the beginning. He's been separated for six months. Living on his own. It's just taking a while to go through the court system."
I shrank, feeling stupid.
"As soon as his divorce gets finalized, we’ll start planning the wedding. But we both decided that we should wait at least a year to get to know each other better. But he felt it was important that he show me how much he is committed to this relationship by giving me a ring."