“Thanks, Mac,” he said.
“Hopefully, he’s going away for a long time.” Mac glanced back at Bugarra, who lay motionless on the deck. He pushed the throttle just enough so that every wave they hit jostled Bugarra.
“What about the treasure?” Kurt asked.
“Found a lot of it in my day and never helped me any. It’s in the park. I’ll leave that to you.”
Mac wasn’t done, though. There was still Henriques treasure lying somewhere. But he would need to read the rest of Van Doren’s journal to find out if he had escaped with it.
Epilogue
Sitting up in the hospital bed in Fishermen’s Hospital in Marathon, Kurt checked his email. Two days had passed since they had left Fort Jefferson, his wound was starting to look better. Surgery to remove the bullet embedded in his leg had been a success, and he had started to wean himself from the painkillers. Slowly the government was coming back to life, but Justine, along with the rest of the crime lab, was still deemed nonessential, and she had stayed by his side. Allie had returned to her mother’s this morning after a tearful goodbye.
Justine wondered how this adventure would affect Allie. She was strong, but still only sixteen. It was bound to leave some scars. Time would heal, and Justine would do whatever she could to help. Their bond had grown stronger after being held together. She squeezed Kurt’s hand, thinking about how much she loved him, and his daughter, as she watched the steady drip of antibiotics from the IV flow into his arm. A shadow appeared by the door, passed by, and returned.
“Hey,” Mac said, standing in the doorway.
“Come on in,” Justine said. Mac had seemed standoffish to her when she first met him, but she was starting to understand him, and a deep respect had grown between them.
“Only have a few minutes. Mel’s flight lands in an hour.”
“Have you seen your place yet?” Kurt asked.
They turned to the TV, which had been showing nonstop coverage of the devastation the storm had brought to the Middle Keys, expecting Wood’s island to be the next location shown.
“That’s something I have to do with Mel. I’ve been staying on the boat, behind the Rusty Anchor. We’ll go out in the morning and have a look,” Mac said.
Kurt turned to Justine. “Johnny Wells came by when you took Allie back to her mom’s. Bugarra’s going to be charged by the feds for kidnapping. They’ll broker the lesser charges, but that ought to finish him off. I heard the IRS is camped out at his office as well. Add in a dose of tax evasion, and we won’t be seeing him again.”
“That was a good call to have him taken into custody,” Justine said.
“It was unintentional,” Kurt said. “I didn’t want to deal with Farnsworth.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” Mac asked.
Before answering, Kurt looked down at his laptop, knowing his status as a park service employee would dictate the answer. After several minutes, his emails began to load. He started to skim through all one hundred of them..
“I guess the storm doesn’t stop the world,” Justine said with a smile, looking over his shoulder.
Towards the bottom, Kurt found what he was looking for. Martinez had granted his leave. “We’re good. When I get back to work, I’ll deal with Farnsworth.”
“I bet he turns state’s evidence and walks away,” Mac said.
“I’ve got some ideas,” Kurt said. “You sure you don’t want to make a dive on the bell before I report it?”
“Damned sure. It’ll be good for you, and if it’ll help you deal with that prick, have at it,” Mac said.
“Tru and Pamela came by earlier,” Justine said.
Mac hadn’t seen the couple since dropping them off at the marina in Key West with instructions to bring the Reef Runner back to Marathon.
“They said Pamela was going to move back up.”
“That’s good news,” Mac said. “Listen, I gotta go. Y’all take care.”
He started to walk away, but Justine grabbed him at the door and gave him a big hug. “You’re not just walking out like that.”
Mac smiled and nodded to Kurt. “Take care of this one, and bring your daughter down some time.”
After Mac left, Justine sat on the bed next to Kurt and took his hand. “He’s right about that treasure not helping anyone.”
Kurt nodded, his eyes slowly closing. Justine stayed there holding his hand as he drifted off to sleep.
“You ready?” Mac asked Mel. They were sitting in the cockpit of the Ghost Runner, finishing their coffee. Marathon was a mess, but most of the power had been restored, allowing them a comfortable, air-conditioned night aboard. But they both knew it was time.
“Yeah. I’m pretty much resigned to the fact that it’s gone,” she said.
“If it is, we’ll build it back. Done it before; we’ll do it again.”
“Spoken like a true Conch,” Mel said. “Let’s go have a look.”
Mac went to the wheelhouse and fired up the engine while Mel cast off the lines. Debris cluttered the canal, and Mac turned over the wheel to Mel while he went forward with the gaff to clear a path. When they reached the end of the canal, he came back to the wheel, and they both looked back at Rusty’s. “He’s finally got that view he wanted,” Mac said. The normally lush vegetation was bare, and they could see the back deck of the bar clearly.
“And Rufus’s shack survived,” Mel said.
Mac turned back to the water ahead. It was an unusual shade of brown from erosion and already-decaying vegetation. He steered to deeper water and past Sister Creek. Boot Key was barren, and through the bare branches, he could see the normally hidden harbor. They both stared ahead, knowing that they would soon find out their future. They passed under the Seven Mile Bridge—the strong currents running between the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico had cleared the spans—and Mac pushed down on the throttle. He was tired of waiting and ready to get to work.
The small keys all looked the same; many had been essentially leveled by the storm surge. Mac saw ibis and herons standing on the bare branches looking for fish. For them, this was just a natural process, and life continued, a little altered, but still the same. That was how Mac viewed his own life.
Finally, the island came into view. Wood had chosen well, and it was immediately evident that the island, being higher and drier than many of its neighbors, had fared better. From a quarter mile away, they could see the house.
“It’s still there,” Mel said.
Mac studied it as he closed on the channel, making sure to slow earlier than usual in case the bottom had shifted with the storm, and once he knew the channel was deep enough, he glided up to the pile.
“That old pile’s survived many a storm,” Mel said. “Kind of reminds me of Dad.”
Mac nodded, too nervous to laugh. “Ready?” he asked, after tying off the boat and shutting down the engine.
Mel walked out the transom door and stepped off the dive platform. “You think we can add a dock?”
“Might be about time for that. It’ll be a while before the camouflage grows back.”
Together they waded to shore and walked through the opening where the gate had been. The pile of traps remained, but was covered with seaweed. They saw the house well before they would have previously, and Mac was surprised how well it had endured. “If the storm surge didn’t make it to the floor, we did pretty well.” The water tanks were stripped from the roof and the solar array was gone, but the shell of the house was intact.
Climbing the stairs, they could see where the high-water mark had been, one step short of the floor level. It had been a hell of a ride, but they had survived. Standing on the porch, they looked out over the island.
“I’m so happy, Mac. Giving up the treasure was the right thing to do. It’s almost like karma.”
Mac fingered the folded papers of the journal in his pocket and took her in his arms. “So far, so good,” he said. He’d not had time to read the rest of Van Doren’s journal, and stil
l wondered if the captain had escaped—and what he had done with Henriques’ treasure.
Afterword
Wood’s Tempest is the middle part of a story that spans three of my series. They are all independent stories and can be read and enjoyed by themselves.
Mac’s involvement starts with Backwater Tide, where Kurt and Justine work to solve Gill Gross’s murder. Wood’s Tempest starts where Backwater Tide ends.
Shifting Sands is the story of how Nick Van Doren and his crew find the treasure, the chase, and what happens to them afterward.
Things are never easy when you’re labeled a pirate in the Caribbean.
Get the story behind Wood’s Tempest
Available on Amazon - http://bit.ly/tofshiftingsands
There is one word that brings out the worst in people: TREASURE.
Get it now on Amazon: http://bit.ly/backwatertide
About the Author
Always looking for a new location or adventure to write about, Steven Becker can usually be found on or near the water. He splits his time between Tampa and the Florida Keys - paddling, sailing, diving, fishing or exploring.
Find out more by visiting www.stevenbeckerauthor.com or contact me directly at
[email protected].
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Wood’s Reef
"A riveting tale of intrigue and terrorism, Key West characters in their full glory! Fast paced and continually changing direction Mr Becker has me hooked on his skillful and adventurous tales from the Conch Republic!"
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Also By Steven Becker
Kurt Hunter Mysteries
Backwater Bay
Backwater Channel
Backwater Cove
Backwater Key
Backwater Pass
Mac Travis Adventures
Wood’s Relic
Wood’s Reef
Wood’s Wall
Wood’s Wreck
Wood’s Harbor
Wood’s Reach
Wood’s Revenge
Wood’s Betrayal
Wood’s Tempest
Tides of Fortune
Pirate
The Wreck of the Ten Sail
Haitian Gold
Shifting Sands (January 2019)
Will Service Adventure Thrillers
Bonefish Blues
Tuna Tango
Dorado Duet
Storm Series
Storm Rising
Storm Force
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