As he drove, he tried to come up with a story that wouldn’t land him in trouble, but at this point the only thing that mattered was getting Sheryl back. Holding her was different than Kyle. They could scare the boy enough for him to keep quiet. Sheryl was not like that, and if they didn’t know it before, they were sure to know it after spending some quality time with her. He wished he had some of the fight in him that she had.
Several minutes later, he parked and walked toward the police station. He hesitated at the door; it was his last chance to back out, but his concern about Sheryl moved him forward. The deputy at the counter looked up.
“Can I help you?”
“My girlfriend has been abducted and—”
“Slow down there, cowboy.” The deputy pushed aside the paper he was reading and took out a form. “OK. I’ll ask the questions.”
They went back and forth, the officer asking and Will answering.
“You mean she left willingly this morning with this guy, and you haven’t seen her since. It’s only 5 o’clock,” he paused. “That’s only seven hours. I can’t call it a missing person until she’s been gone for twenty-four hours, and even then you don’t have any proof that she’s really missing and not with this guy of her own accord.”
“I understand that, but …” He hesitated as the man answered the phone. He was clearly on the back burner now, and unsure how deep into the story he wanted to go. The deputy seemed skeptical of him, having already filed the story in his mind as jilted boyfriend seeks revenge. If nothing else, the process of walking in and reporting the crime had steeled him to take action—even if he had to go it alone. It was likely that she was being held at George’s, and he knew where he lived.
He left the station without a glance back at the deputy, who was deep in an obviously more important matter. It would be best to wait until dark before he went to George’s, he thought as he started the truck and pulled onto the street. He would be too visible in daylight, and without knowing where she was being held, he would need to scout out the property.
A list formed in his mind and he started to think about a weapon. He had never owned anything more powerful than a speargun.
***
“What are we going to do about Sheryl?” Kyle asked as they drove over the Gandy Bridge toward Tampa.
“Dude, are you freakin’ crazy? You were a hostage and shit, and you still want to be involved? We still have to find some cash and pay off Rucker. You gotta know that’s not coming from Will.” Dick was sucking hard on the last joint he had rolled at Sheryl’s. “And this is the last of our stuff.”
“I know you liked her. We can’t just walk away.” Kyle grabbed the joint and took a hit.
Dick stared out the window. “We could just take the john boat from my dad’s and be on the water in an hour. Fish ‘till the tide changes and figure it out.”
“I think we need to do something. We can’t run away from this. What happens when the dickhead at the club finds out she’s missing? She’ll lose her job.”
Dick continued to stare. “So you want to call the dickhead?”
“No, but I’m not just dropping this. Let’s find you some weed and figure out what to do. Will owes us some money, too. It’s not enough to get clear, but I don’t want to let it go.”
Dick turned toward him. “Fine. Just get me some stuff. This stress is killing me.”
Chapter 19
Will drove north on Gulf Boulevard until he reached Cabrillo Ave, and then turned right. He pulled into the large parking lot on his left, planning to walk the short distance to the house. The lot was close to empty, so he decided on a spot further away from the road, and close to the other cars parked there, hoping to blend in. He didn’t want to chance George driving by and noticing his truck. He locked the truck and started walking, staying to the perimeter of the lot, where the light faded into the tropical growth; walking in the center was too exposed. When he reached the street, he turned left and started to jog the quarter-mile to the house hoping to stay hidden in the dark of night.
As the house came into sight, he cast a glance across the street to the dock, where George’s boat was tied up. The truck was also in the driveway, so he sprinted toward the bushes on the side. A security light came on, but he didn’t hesitate, and jumped for the shrubs by the corner of the garage. Out of breath and with sweat stinging his eyes, he huddled in the bushes, trying to decide what to do. The house was lit up like a Christmas tree—too bright to even consider a look now. Resigned to wait, he rested his back against the building and slid to the ground and started swatting the mosquitoes swarming around him.
Suddenly several lights went out. He turned to look, and at least half the lights that had been on a minute ago were now extinguished. On his feet, he started to move when suddenly he froze, startled by the truck door slamming and the engine starting.
Glued to the spot, he waited for the truck to back out of the driveway, pivot, and head toward Gulf Boulevard. Then, moving quickly, he crept out of the bushes and snuck around the back of the house. Unsure how long George would be gone, he went from window to window, peering into each as he passed. The rooms that were illuminated were empty, and it was impossible to see anything in the darkened ones.
He reached the opposite side of the house with no luck. The front was too exposed, and the rooms also appeared to have large windows—not the kind of place where he expected Sheryl would be held. The only option now was to go inside. With no sign of anyone else in the house, he crept back to see if the window he’d cracked the other night was still opened.
Carefully, he made his way back to the room. No light was visible through the blinds as he removed the screen and slid the window to the side. He jumped, pulling his body onto the sill and then rolling forward into the room.
The blind came off the wall with a loud crash, and he landed on the sharp edge of a piece of furniture.
The pain in his side was excruciating, but he was relieved to find no sign of blood. Slowly, he extricated himself from the blinds and set them aside. The house was still silent. He sat up and waited a few more minutes before he rose, went to the door, and cracked it. The hallway was dark, and appeared deserted as he slid out of the room.
A light hit him in the eyes just as he entered the hall. He looked down and noticed a red dot on his chest.
“Freeze zadrota,” the accented voice of a girl called out.
He froze, knowing the voice. “Wait, I can explain,” he mumbled. The dot wavered for a second and he thought she was ready to pull the trigger, but instead the hall lights came on.
They stood ten feet apart. “You break into a house like you sail a boat. What a loser.”
She motioned with the gun for him to move toward a large open space. Once they were in the living room, she waved the gun at a chair. Just as he sat, she came toward him. He flinched as the butt of the gun struck his face.
***
Dick was becoming more anxious with every mile as Kyle stayed right at the speed limit on the Crosstown Expressway. Finally they exited and headed toward Ybor City. The stress of the last few days had left his nerves frazzled. The bar they worked at was the best shot at scoring some weed, or maybe something stronger. Fourth Street was quiet this early in the week, and they quickly found a parking spot a block from the club.
They entered and moved to the side of the door so they could speak with the bouncer without blocking the entrance. Kyle was doing most of the talking, but the man soon reached into his jacket pocket and subtly brought his hand around his back to meet Dick’s waiting grasp. Dick moved further into the corner, opened the vial, and put a pill under his tongue. He motioned for Kyle to come closer, handed him a pill, and grinned as he put it in his mouth.
Now it was just a few beers and a matter of time until the drug took effect. Dick moved to the bar, looking forward to the next few hours. This was not the typical pot buzz, where he would have to worry about the effects wearing off quickly. What he assumed was ecs
tasy would carry him through the night.
The bar was full of regulars and employees on one of those rare nights when the right combination of people were there; the energy palpable. He moved toward the bar with Kyle behind him and ordered a beer. As the bartender came over, someone yelled from down the bar to put it on their tab.
On hearing this bit of good news, Dick quickly ordered two double shots of tequila to supplement the beers and accelerate the effect of the drug. He collected the drinks, clinked glasses, with Kyle, downed the shot, and moved down the bar to greet his benefactor.
***
George paced the parking lot in front of the fish house. In the background, the sound of a saw pierced the quiet night. He wasn’t too concerned about boat traffic this late, but he knew making this much noise after sundown was like a magnet for code enforcement, or worse, the police. Code enforcement would shut him down with either a stern warning or a ticket. His past transgressions, although they had never convicted him of anything, made the outcome less promising if it was the police that came by.
There was also the chance that Will would return, but that was the least of his worries. He was confident he could easily deal with the spineless contractor.
He leaned over to look under the building when the saw stopped. Two men were on the platform, working under the building. James stood with a large circular saw held at his side, while the other man wobbled slightly, holding a light wherever James pointed. They moved five feet toward the edge of the building and the saw kicked on again. George rose and watched the traffic on Gulf Boulevard.
James had reported to him on the progress at the fish house. His knowledge of construction had quickly clued him in to how Will was planning on doing the work, but he needed one more day to see the entire process. He had explained that jacking up a building from the water and in sandy soil was not something he had ever done. There had to be a learning curve, and Will had already mastered it.
George hadn’t understood much of what James had said, but as long as he was confident he could do it after watching Will, that was good enough. He had made the quick decision that Will was now dispensable, and once he was out of the way, James’s ability to finish the job would give him the upper hand with Lance. Until this point, Lance had run the operation like a dictator, treating him as a lowly fisherman. Now the tables would turn.
The saw paused again, and he looked anxiously at his phone. They had been at it for almost an hour now, and they needed to finish before Will returned. It was better to create an accident than to confront him directly, although that might be more satisfying.
Ten minutes later, he heard the two men unloading tools onto the seawall, and James called out that they were finished.
“You guys got it?” George asked as he walked toward them.
“It’ll do the job. I just have to watch how he jacks up the building and sets the first beam. The spot we just cut is the next area after we finish what we’re working on. I’ll make sure it looks like an accident.”
***
“Dude, you on it yet?” Dick asked Kyle after another double tequila.
“Yeah, but this ain’t X.”
“Who cares? I’m feelin’ it,” Dick said as he moved down the bar to a cluster of women. The group parted to let him join them. The women were well dressed and having a good time. Dick looked out of place amongst the group, but they greeted him and started buying drinks. A few minutes later, he caught Kyle's eye down the bar and waved him over. Weeknights were more of a local crowd than the weekends, when the area was invaded by college students. The girls in the group were from South Tampa and had gone to school with them; the bonds formed in high school crossed any socio economic barriers. They were just all buddies out for a good time
Their group at the bar got rowdier as the night wore on. Dick had heard them talking about celebrating something, but he couldn’t make out what it was. And he really didn’t care. Whatever the bouncer had given them was bearing down on him full bore, and he couldn’t have been happier.
The moment was broken when he felt someone grab his shirt from behind. He looked back and it was the bar owner pulling him away from the group.
“I told you not to mess with the customers, you low-life piece of crap. I saw you take that waitress out of here last night, too.”
“Dickhead, bro. Whas’up,” he slurred. “Come on, dude, lighten up. I’ll hook you up with whichever of these fine women you want.”
“You will get out of my bar now, and this will be the last time I see you unless it is across a courtroom. And take your sidekick with you!” he yelled in Dick's face.
Dick looked down, the high felt moments ago plummeting. “Dude, I’m just having some fun.”
The man didn’t answer, but looked at the bouncer and waved him over. He spoke in his ear when he approached and stepped out of the way. The bouncer closed in on Dick and pulled him away from the bar.
“Look. I gotta keep this gig. Sorry bro,” he whispered as he escorted him toward the door, looking behind him to make sure Kyle was following. They were outside now, and he handed Dick two more pills. “Don’t worry about the other one, either. I like you guys. Sorry.”
Dick popped both pills into his mouth.
“You did it this time!” Kyle yelled at him. “Now what? We got to pay Rucker off, and we got no money or job. Will has those other dudes now, and they at least show up on time.”
Dick thought for a minute. “Dude, the fish. We go find the dude and spy him out. Find out where he’s bringing the fish in and take another one.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
***
“So, it would be nice if you had my money and maybe I wouldn’t have to turn you over to Gregori,” Jazmyn said.
He had just regained consciousness and was looking around, trying to orient himself. Duct tape bound his ankles and wrists tightly to the chair, and his head was spinning again; the blow from the gun must have compounded his injuries from yesterday.
“I’ll get your money. Just let the girl go,” Will spat out as he frantically looked around him for a way out.
“The girl. I forgot about her.” She turned away. “This could be fun.”
Will couldn’t help but watch her butt as she swayed across the room into the opposite hallway. A minute later she emerged, pushing Sheryl in front of her.
“Look what we have here,” she said. “Your boyfriend here owes me ten thousand dollars for the other night. He doesn’t seem to be able to pay me.”
“What is she talking about, Will?” Sheryl asked.
“It’s kind of involved,” he said, regretting the way it came out the minute he opened his mouth.
“I bet it is. We’re broken up for two days and you take on this Russian slut.”
Jazmyn turned and looked at her, but was interrupted when the door to the garage opened and George entered. He looked around and laughed. “See you found her soft spot.”
Chapter 20
Dick woke to sand flies feasting on his legs, and immediately sensed that the drugs had worn off. He sat up and brushed the invisible bugs off. They had driven to the beach last night without a plan; their scrambled brains assuring them of instant success.
It took him a few minutes to remember what they were supposed to be succeeding at. Finally it came back to him: All they had to do was find George and follow him to wherever he was stashing the fish now. It had seemed simpler last night. Now, in full daylight and sober, Dick realized it wasn’t going to happen so easily.
A quick slap on Kyle’s back stirred him. Another and he was awake.
“What the heck? Where are we?” He sat up and looked around.
“The beach, you idiot. Now get up. We need to figure some shit out.” Dick got to his feet and started toward the parking area. He reached the pavement and brushed the sand from his bare legs and clothes. The car should have been right there, but it wasn’t.
“Hurry up. Where’d you park, anyway?”
“Well, who told you to park there?” Dick walked toward him and stared at the sign they hadn’t seen last night. “What are we going to do now?”
“We got no coin, no car, and no weed.” Kyle checked his pants pockets. “And the phone was in the car. It’s fucking dismal.” He kicked the curb and then grabbed his foot in pain.
Dick looked around them. There was only one option—the fish house was a few blocks away. They hadn’t been fired or quit … at least he didn’t think so. He checked the level of the sun in the sky.
“It’s still early. We can walk over to the fish house and just go to work.” Surprised by his calmness without getting high, he smiled, knowing the drugs from last night, even though they had worn off, would temporarily change the chemistry in his brain.
He started walking toward Gulf Boulevard, where Kyle quickly caught up to him. The smell of food and coffee were hard to ignore as they passed a bakery and crossed the street to the intracoastal side. Two blocks later, they stood in front of the building.
“He’s not even here yet,” Kyle said as he checked the lock on the door.
Dick was checking the freezer out, on the off chance that George had used it again. The door was locked. He walked past it and onto the dock toward the sailboat. The cabin was locked from the outside.
***
The tires screeched as the truck made the turn too quickly and bounced into the lot. It came to a stop, one of the back doors opened, and Will was pushed onto the asphalt. Before he could get to his feet, the truck accelerated and sped out of the lot. He stayed on his knees, trying to evaluate his condition. His leg was bleeding through the rash of dark paving adhered to it from the fall, and his head still hurt.
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