Drunk on a Boat

by Zane Mitchell

  A smirk replaced Francesca’s concern over the situation. “You were a Boy Scout?”

  I tipped my head forward. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “So were my brothers. At least the oldest ones were. When we lived in the States.”

  I took a sip from the water I’d ordered to go with my ice cream. My mouth was parched once again. I had a feeling it was going to take a while to get over the dehydration I’d suffered the day before. Perhaps I’d been dehydrated even before I’d been abducted. “Here’s the thing, Francesca. I need to figure out how to save Pam. I can’t just let her die.”

  “Well, we can talk to Sergeant Gibson. I’m sure he—”

  I held up a hand to stop her from going any further. “Ehhh,” I buzzed like the big red Xs on Family Feud. “No. The guy said no cops. No media. No funny business.”

  Francesca looked perplexed. “I don’t get it, Drunk. They’re asking for seven million dollars? Why do they think you can get your hands on seven million dollars?”

  “Because he has seven million dollars,” said Al. “Probably by now he’s got more than seven million dollars. The first-quarter markets have been killer, and I picked some amazingly high-yield funds for him to invest in. He’s probably sitting on an extra two fifty by now, maybe more.”

  Her head swiveled to stare at me. “What? Where’d you come into that kind of money, Drunk? Is this the real reason you don’t want me to go to my boss? Are you into something shady down here?”

  I shook my head. “No, no, no. Look. After that whole thing went down with recovering those cold-storage keys, my team of professionals”—by which I meant Al’s geriatric squad—“was unable to locate the owner of the last key. And since Jimmy gave it to me, I was informed that it belonged to me.”

  “Drunk, I’m not sure that’s how that works… Jimmy was a criminal! That money was stolen.”

  I pursed my lips. “It is what it is. Finders keepers, losers weepers. Anyway, it’s over now. I cashed out the cryptocurrency two months ago when the Bitcoin market hit an upswing. And I might have to give it to this kidnapper now. But I’d like to avoid that if all possible. I just don’t know how.”

  “So, what do you want me to do?”

  “I need you to help me figure out how to get her back!”

  “Without spending the seven mil? Is that it?”

  “Look, Frankie, it’s not about the money entirely—”

  “Francesca.”

  “Right. I’m sorry. Francesca, it’s not about the money entirely. I mean, yes, I’d like to keep it, but what if I hand them this suitcase of money and they kill Pam anyway? What then?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, there’s always a risk of that happening. Have they set up the exchange yet?”

  “No, not yet. Harry said he’d call me in twenty-four hours. It was sometime after lunchtime when they dropped me overboard, so we have a few hours until he’s supposed to call to make arrangements. I’m supposed to be getting the money together.”

  “Harry? You know the guy’s name?”

  I cracked a smile. “Oh. No, Harry’s just the nickname I gave the guy. He kind of looks like Harry Potter. He’s got the same glasses. Dark hair, you know?”

  “You didn’t call him that to his face, though.”

  “Oh, no. I did. I told him I’d seen all his movies.” Remembering the look on the man’s face when I’d said that almost made me giggle like a twelve-year-old girl at a sleepover.

  “Drunk! You know, it’s probably not such a wise idea to crack jokes at the kidnapper’s expense.”

  I wagged a finger in the air. “You know, Harry said something about that. I’m pretty sure he said that me cracking jokes is against the rules.”

  “What rules?”

  “He gave me a list of rules. No cops. No media. No dye packs. No fake cash. No tracking devices. No funny business.” I ticked them off my fingers as I recalled them all. “And no jokes.”

  Francesca leaned back in her seat. “And so what exactly do you expect me to do to help you if I can’t go to Sergeant Gibson?”

  “I don’t know. Back in the States, if something like this happened, I’d go to my pal Mikey. He’s a detective. He always knows what to do.”

  “But you’re a cop, too, Drunk,” said Francesca.

  “Correction: I was a cop. In the States. Plus I was barely even off probation. So it’s not like I had that shit on lockdown even when I was there! And then there’s the fact that I have absolutely no connections down here except you. Your whole force seems to have it in for me. So even if Harry had given me his blessing to call the cops, I’m not sure that it would have been such a good idea. They might’ve tried to pin the whole thing on me in some way.”

  Francesca sighed. “I really don’t know what I can do to help.”

  “I’ve got security footage of the person who took Pam. I took a screenshot of his back. He’s got a pretty specific tattoo. Plus I have a make and model of the car. You could take a look at it for me?” I pulled the folded paper I’d printed out earlier from my shirt pocket and slid it across the table to Francesca.

  She sighed and looked down at it. “That’s it? That’s all you want me to do? Just do some digging on this guy?”

  “And I was hoping maybe you’d come back to the resort with me. Be there when this guy calls. Maybe between the three of us, we’ll figure out a solution.”

  “I can’t just leave work, Drunk.”

  “What were you doing when we got there? Working a high-pressure case?”

  “Not exactly,” she said, suddenly finding the waffle-weave pattern in the iron patio table interesting.

  “What were you doing?”

  Her cheeks flushed red as she slowly lifted her eyes from the table to meet mine. “I was opening and sorting the sergeant’s mail for him.”

  My eyes widened. “Woooow. Wow. That’s some heavy-duty shit right there.” I turned to look at Al and pushed my chair back from the table. “Come on, Al. We really should get Francesca back to the station so she can get back to work on her big assignment.”

  “Drunk…” sighed Francesca.

  “No, I mean, I certainly wouldn’t want to ask you to work an abduction and ransom case over opening the boss’s mail.”

  Al furrowed his brows. “They didn’t give you a little more responsibility after you helped nab Jimmy’s killer?”

  “Actually, I got in trouble for not calling for backup sooner,” she admitted glumly. “So it’s not that I don’t want to get involved in a big case, it’s just that I don’t want to lose my job doing it.”

  “Fine. Sergeant Gibson never has to know!” I promised.

  She glanced up at Al.

  “I certainly wouldn’t tell anyone you helped,” he said.

  “Neither would I.”

  Francesca finally let out a heavy sigh and then stood up. “Oh, fine. But I’m in charge of this case from here on out.”

  I grinned. “Totally fine with that. Nothing turns me on more than taking orders from a woman!”

  “Drunk!” exclaimed Francesca. “If we’re going to work together, you certainly can’t say things like that.”

  I saluted her. “Sure thing, boss. Whatever you say.”

  Francesca made a face. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  24

  “You got any Tums?” asked Al as soon as I opened the door to my cottage.

  I reached inside and turned the light on. “In the bathroom.”

  Without saying a word, Al shuffled off across my living room.

  I furtively glanced around the room, wishing I’d had the foresight to have picked up a little more, but I’d been in a hurry. I opened my front door a little wider and gave a deep bow. “Welcome to my castle, m’lady.”

  Francesca Cruz stepped into my cottage and glanced around at my bamboo and rattan furnishings. The place had come furnished, which I was eternally grateful for, because I could go years in an apartment with the only furnishings being a TV and a matt
ress in the living room.

  I rushed about, picking up empty liquor bottles and tumblers from the end tables and the floor.

  “Did you just have a party?” she asked, her brows lifted.

  “Party? Oh, no. I just…” I gave it a split-second thought. “Oh, party! Yeah, I mean, if you can call it that. I had a few friends over, you know. They’re big drinkers.”

  Her head bobbed as she walked around. “This is a cute place. I didn’t even know these cottages were back here.”

  “Yeah, Artie lives next door.” I pointed out the window in my living room. “That’s his place. He’s got a pool. He lets me use it whenever I want. So that’s a nice perk.”

  “Who lives in the one on the other side of you?”

  “As far as I know, that one’s empty right now.”

  She strolled around the living room as Al reappeared, rubbing his stomach.

  “What’s the matter, Al? Got a tummy ache?” I plumped out my bottom lip teasingly.

  “Indigestion.”

  Francesca disappeared down the hallway.

  “It’s probably just the stress of the situation,” I suggested.

  He nodded. “Probably.”

  “Hey, who’s this?” Francesca’s muted voice carried down the hallway.

  I found her standing in my bedroom door. “Oh, that’s Earnestine.”

  I was just about to rush at the bird, arms flapping, to shoo her out my window, when Francesca cooed at her. “Oh! What a pretty bird!”

  Earnestine flew across the room to land on Francesca’s arm. “Pretty bird, pretty bird!” she mimicked.

  “She talks!” said Francesca, her whole face lighting up with excitement. “Amazing! What a sweetheart.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “She’s not such a sweetheart at the crack of dawn. She’s worse than an alarm clock.”

  “She wakes you up in the morning?” She said it like it was an impressive feat.

  “Well, yeah, but trust me. No one wants to be woken up by an obnoxious parrot. It’s like nails on a chalkboard after a long night of dri… after a long night at work.”

  “What else does she say?” Francesca carried her past me to the living room.

  “No! I…” I really didn’t want Earnestine in my living room. She’d already taken over my bedroom, and I didn’t really need the feathery old gal taking over my living room too. But Francesca kept walking, a silly smile plastered on her face, like a kid, playing with a new toy on Christmas morning.

  She ran her petite fingers down the bird’s head and backside. “Hi, Earnestine,” she said, her voice taking on a babylike quality. “I’m Francesca. You’re gorgeous.”

  “Pretty bird, pretty bird,” crowed Earnestine.

  “Yes!” Francesca laughed.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of her easy smile. “You’ve got a great smile.”

  Behind her, Al lifted his puffy white brows as he quietly slid into a barstool at my kitchen counter.

  Francesca pulled her eyes off of the bird to look at me intently. “Have you forgotten already? You’re not supposed to say things like that.”

  “Like what? It was just a compliment!”

  Francesca sighed and reached out to hand me Earnestine. “What time is your guy supposed to call?”

  “Any minute,” I assured her. “You wanna sit down?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  As she got comfortable, I ran Earnestine back to my bedroom and tossed her out the window. “Now off you go,” I hissed.

  I turned my back on her, slamming my bedroom door behind me.

  “Francesca, can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’d take a bottle of water if you’ve got one,” she said. She pointed at a picture on my end table. “These your folks?”

  I stared at the old couple on my end table. The white-haired woman had her arms looped around the white-haired man’s neck like he was giving her a piggyback ride. I was pretty sure my mother had never looped her arms around Pops’ neck ever in her life. I chuckled. “I’m pretty sure that picture came with the frame.”

  “Yeah? And you’re just leaving it up?”

  I handed her a bottle of water. “Honestly, I’m not really one for home decor.”

  “Drunk’s idea of decorating is lining up empty tequila bottles,” said Al.

  I shot him a look and then forced a smile. I strode over to Al and patted him over emphatically on the shoulder. “Al’s a funny guy, isn’t he?” I gave him a little squeeze. “Can I get you something, Al? A water, a sandwich, a muzzle perhaps?”

  Francesca laughed. “It’s alright, Drunk. I get it. Your fiancée just left you. So you’re living the bachelor life right now. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “My fiancée left m—” My mouth gaped. “I left her. But, yes, I do happen to be enjoying the bachelor life again.”

  She chuckled softly. “I’ve got six brothers. I completely understand the need for boys to be boys.”

  “You’ve got six brothers? Geez. My parents decided that life was perfect after having me, so they stopped there. Well, either that or they decided they didn’t want to risk having another one just like me.” I smirked. “Either way… I grew up an only child.”

  “Well, that explains a lot,” mumbled Francesca under her breath, but just loud enough for me to hear her.

  I pretended that I didn’t. “So what’s it like having six brothers?”

  “Busy,” she admitted with a nod. “My brothers were involved in lots of stuff.”

  “You said you moved to the island when you were in grade school, right?”

  “Yeah, but I was the youngest. Some of my brothers had already graduated high school when we moved, but they all moved too. It’s kind of a long story.”

  I plopped down into the sofa next to her. “Well, I don’t know about the two of you, but I happen to be waiting for a call. I’ve got all the time in the world.”

  She giggled and opened her mouth to speak, but my phone rang. From my mouth to God’s ear, I thought. I leaned over the coffee table and looked down at my cell phone. “Restricted,” I said. “It’s him.”

  Francesca’s face sobered almost instantly. She sat up higher and leaned forward to retrieve the small notepad and pen she’d dropped onto my coffee table. “Put him on speakerphone,” she instructed. “I’ll take notes.”

  I sucked in a deep breath to calm the adrenaline that had suddenly shot through my veins. Slowly, I let it out and answered the phone. “Drunk here.”

  “Ahhh, so you did make it back. Impressive.”

  “You thought I didn’t know how to swim?”

  “I figured you had a fifty-fifty shot. But I’m sure you had a little motivation to make it.”

  “Yeah,” I grunted. “And, hey, thanks for the paddles. That was sweet of you to include them.”

  “My pleasure.” I could almost picture his shit-eating grin. I’d have to be sure to wipe that off his face next time I saw him. “I needed to make sure we had time to sail away.”

  I grunted. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Have you gotten the money together yet?”

  I glanced over at Francesca, who was now standing next to Al in the kitchen. She shook her head.

  “Are you kidding?” I asked. “I literally just woke up. After all of that swimming and then waiting for someone to see me and bring me back to shore… let’s just say I was beat.”

  “Well, clock’s ticking. You better get on it. We’re meeting in two days.”

  “Two days!” I bellowed. “You think I can get seven million dollars to fit in a suitcase in two days?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure out a way.” Even if I had really planned to hand over seven million dollars, I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to get it together in that short amount of time. I didn’t think banks acted that fast, especially international banks that I didn’t hold an account with. “And if not, there’s always my original plan. You can just wire me the money.”

&n
bsp; “I’ll get it together.”

  “Good. Okay, are you familiar with Gull Island?”

  “I’ve heard of it.”

  “It’s a very small uninhabited island off the southern coast of Paradise Isle.”

  “I said I’d heard of it,” I repeated gruffly. Even though I didn’t know anything about it, he didn’t need to know that.

  “Okay, well, in two days, we’ll meet there. I’ll call you when the time nears and give you a time and further directions. Got it?”

  “I mean, there’s really not much to get,” I deadpanned.

  “No jokes, remember?”

  “Who’s joking?”

  “Alright. Get going on getting my cash!”

  25

  “Mmm! Evie, I haven’t had fried chicken this good since… well, since whenever it was the last time my mom made it,” I said, through a mouthful of Evie’s greasy but perfectly crispy fried chicken.

  A smile of satisfaction poured across Evelyn Becker’s face. I could see that she was pleased to have both filled my stomach and gotten an opportunity to mother someone. And I certainly wasn’t complaining. As a self-proclaimed momma’s boy, I appreciated being mothered. I liked everything mothers provided. Food. Clean clothes. A tidy house. Fresh bedsheets. And even haircuts.

  So when I’d called home to tell my folks that I was staying on Paradise Isle to accept the head of resort security position, my pops had piped in on the conversation, “Good, it’s about time you got off your mother’s tit.” Pops was about as subtle as a brick to the head, but I was used to it.

  Seated out on their cottage’s small beachfront porch, Evie clasped her hands together in front of herself. “I’m so glad you like it. And I’m so thrilled I finally got to meet Officer Cruz!” She turned to smile at Francesca. “Al told me all about how you helped them with that horrible shooting situation in the airport. Don’t your parents worry about you being a police officer?”

  A quiet smile turned the corners of Francesca’s mouth. “My mother worries, yes. I lost my father when I was a kid. I have older brothers, though, and yes, they all worry. A lot.” She said it like it was a source of contention amongst her family.