The man cut his engine and drifted over to her.
“Looks like you could use a hand, missy.”
Lexie, knowing that she had no other choice, nodded. “I guess I either underestimated the distance or overestimated my physical stamina.”
“No worries, little lady, there’s room for you and your kayak.”
Lexie climbed into the old man’s boat and, with his help, pulled her kayak onto the front of the boat. She collapsed on the bench seat.
“Want a beer?” he asked.
“God no, but do you have any water?”
“I do. And why don’t you?”
“I drank my supply … hours ago.”
“Here, drink this,” the man said as he handed her a container of water.
Water never tasted so good as she drank her fill.
“You better slow down,” he said in a gravelly voice. “I don’t like people puking on my boat.”
Lexie looked up and smiled.
“I’m Captain Meade.”
“Lexie, I’m Lexie Mont—Perry.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Mont-Perry.”
“No, no my last name is Perry,” Lexie said, trying to cover up her blunder. “Please call me Lexie.”
The captain gave her a sideways look.
He isn’t buying it, Lexie thought.
To Lexie’s relief, the captain changed the subject.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all the way out here anyway?” he asked.
“Taking photographs,” Lexie said. “I’m working on my portfolio, so I can get a job as a photographer. I realized that I didn’t have enough nature shots, so I’m trying to expand my collection.”
The captain started the motor on the boat. It coughed and sputtered at first, but once it kicked in ran smoothly. He steered the small boat masterfully through the marsh area.
“What kind of boat is this?” Lexie asked.
“It’s my kind of boat,” Captain Meade answered. He chuckled and continued. “It’s a homemade river boat. I built it myself.”
“It’s nice. What’s it made of?”
“Cypress and live oak. It has a live oak frame and cypress boards. My oars are made of cypress.”
“It’s beautiful. You do nice work.”
The captain nodded.
“There’s lots of room in here,” Lexie said, looking at her kayak lying along the side.
“That’s where my sneak boat usually sits. I unloaded it when I realized you weren’t back to the dock. Figured I might need to haul you and the kayak back. The way the tides a runnin’, you might have been paddlin’ clear into the night.”
Lexie gave him a sheepish look. “Thanks.”
“No problem. You ain’t the first to underestimate good ol’ Mother Nature.”
“What’s a sneak boat?”
The captain laughed.
“It’s exactly that, a boat you can sneak around in.”
“Oh. Why do you need to sneak around?”
“Anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions, young’un?”
Lexie sat quietly for a minute. She noticed the motor on his boat was painted green, probably for camouflage. There were nets rolled up and connected to the side railings.
“You a fisherman?”
“Most days.”
“Are you a commercial fisherman?”
“No. I’m a little too old for that line of work anymore. I do charter groups. I know these here waters better’n anyone. I take people fishin’, bird watchin’, shell huntin’, whatever they wanna do.”
The lightbulb went off in Lexie’s head.
“So I could hire you to show me around?”
“That depends,” the old captain said.
“On what?”
“On what you’re after.”
“I told you. I need some good nature photographs.”
“So you say.”
Back at the marina, Captain Meade tied off his boat and helped Lexie haul her kayak to the rental station. After she gathered her belongings, she offered to pay him for rescuing her, but he refused. He walked off laughing, saying something about city folk.
7
The next morning, Lexie went for a short jog, showered, then dialed Don’s undercover phone. He didn’t answer.
So much for answering on the first ring.
Lexie heard the beep.
“Hi, Don. I have an idea. I need some money to charter a boat so I can learn the area. How much do we have in the budget? Call me back.”
Lexie left her condo, drove to the Kudzu Bakery, and bought a key lime pie. She returned to the marina and found Captain Meade sitting in his usual shady spot, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer.
“Breakfast of champions?” Lexie asked.
The captain gave her a look over the top of his glasses. “What are you doin’ back here, little lady?”
“I brought you a pie.”
The captain’s eyes widened.
“It’s key lime. I wanted to thank you for yesterday.”
Lexie placed the pie down in front of Captain Meade.
“Thank you. Key lime is my favorite.”
Lexie grinned.
“Care to join me?” Captain Meade asked.
Lexie pulled up a chair and sat down.
“Where’re you from, girl?”
“I’m new to the area. Just moved here from Louisiana.”
“I didn’t ask you where you live. I asked you where’re you from. Where were you born?”
“Oh,” Lexie answered. “I’m from Alabama.”
“What part of Alabama?”
“Near Mobile. You ever been to Mobile?”
“Nope.”
That’s a relief, Lexie thought.
The captain suffered a coughing fit. After the coughing subsided, he took a swig of his beer.
“Sorry about that. My doctor tells me I need to give up the cancer sticks.”
“You ever try to quit?”
“Nope. Ya gotta die from something.”
Lexie grinned.
“So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here. I appreciate the pie, but you look like a girl with something on her mind.”
“Since I’m new here, I thought you could teach me about the area. I’d like to learn about the river and the wildlife. You said yesterday that no one knows these waters like you, so I’d like to learn from the best.”
Captain Meade lowered his head and looked over the top of his eyeglasses. “Who you work for?”
“What—what do you mean?” Lexie stuttered.
“I mean, who do you work for?”
“I’m between jobs right now. I’m trying to get a job as a photographer.”
“If you’re between jobs, then how’re you gonna pay me?” Meade asked.
“I have money saved up.”
“From your last job?”
“Yes.”
“Which was?”
“Which was what?”
“What was your last job? Jesus, girl, you’re annoying.”
“I worked in a photography studio in New Orleans. I’m not sure what was worse: taking photographs of screaming toddlers who didn’t want to have their picture taken or working with fifty-year-old women who wanted to look twenty.”
“I can see why you’d rather take nature shots,” the captain said.
“So how much do you charge for a charter?”
“I haven’t said that I’m available for a charter.”
“Are you?”
“I’m still not sure what you’re up to. I don’t think you’re simply out to photograph nature.”
“What do you care anyway?” Lexie said. “As long as I pay you. I can pay in cash.”
“Damn girl. You could talk a dog off a meat wagon.” The captain’s aged eyes twinkled as he stared at Lexie. “I usually charge $400 for a half day. For you, I’ll give you six hours for $400. How does that sound?”
“Great. I’ll take it. When can we go?
”
“Meet me here in the morning. We’ll shove off at seven sharp.”
“What do I need to bring?”
“I would suggest your camera. I have everything else.”
Lexie pulled out her cell phone. “What’s your cell phone number? In case it rains or something.”
Meade shook his head. “I don’t have one of those stupid contraptions. It annoys the shit out of me when I’m showing people these beautiful backwaters and all they want to do is talk or text on their phones.”
“How do customers contact you for charter trips?”
Meade pulled out a card from his wallet and handed it to Lexie. The card simply had Captain Meade’s name and a telephone number on it.
“I have a home phone. Folks get ahold of me on that number. I even have one of them fancy answering machines, so if someone calls me while I’m gone, I can call ‘em back when I get home. Don’t see no reason to carry a phone in my pocket. It might scare the fish.”
“I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Captain.”
“That’s probably a good thing, girl.”
***
On the way home, Lexie tried calling Don again. When he didn’t pick up, she called Zach.
“Hi, Lexie. What’s up?”
“I’ve been trying to call Don, but he’s not picking up his phone.”
“Yeah, he took the day off. He’s probably out on the golf course.”
You got to be kidding me, Lexie thought. This is the guy who said he’d be there for me twenty-four seven? She took a deep breath before continuing.
“I wanted to let you know that I’ve chartered a boat for tomorrow to try to get a better feel for what’s going on in the area. I talked the captain down to $400 for six hours. I’m going to pay cash and I doubt that I can get a receipt from this guy. If he offers, I’ll get one, but I’m not going to ask him.”
“I’m not sure how all that stuff works. Don is the guy who knows the money end of things.”
“Well, I’m telling you because Don hasn’t returned my calls and I need cash for tomorrow. This is why I need a contact agent and don’t you dare mention Tony. I need someone I can trust and who I can always reach.”
“I get it. Let me see if I can get a local task force officer to help us out. If I can get a local officer to dedicate some hours to the case, would that work for you?”
“A local guy would be great. In fact, a local guy would know the area a whole lot better than any of us.”
“I’ll work on it and get back to you. As far as the case, Don is the only one with access to the case funds. I hate to ask, but do you have $400 of your own money that you can use, and we can reimburse you tomorrow?”
“We’re really not supposed to do that, but I don’t see that we have a choice. I keep some cash hidden in the condo for emergencies.”
“Sorry to put you in this position, Lexie. We need to smooth out some operational wrinkles.”
“Yes, we do. You guys want me to work this case but seem more concerned with your handicaps than operational details. I’m meeting the boat captain at 7:00 in the morning, so I’ll be out of pocket most of the day. I’ll call and check in when I get off the boat.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of the money situation. Enjoy yourself.”
Lexie disconnected the call.
Enjoy myself? This guy doesn’t have a clue.
8
The radio blared and Lexie sang and thumped the steering wheel of the VW to the beat of the music. The vibrant summer rays warmed her skin through the open window. There could be worse ways to earn a living, she thought. She arrived at the marina to find the captain ready to shove off.
“Good morning, Captain.”
“Morning, girl.”
Lexie handed her camera bag and bottle of sunscreen to the captain.
“Want me to handle the ropes?” she asked.
“Can you do it without falling in the water?”
Lexie rolled her eyes.
Captain Meade snickered. “Please do, first mate.”
The boat motor sputtered and came to life. The captain slowly navigated the boat out of the no wake zone, then opened up the engine.
“Wow, this boat can haul ass,” Lexie hollered over the noise.
“She can hold her own.”
The ride down the Waccamaw River was spectacular. Captain Meade slowed the boat to allow Lexie time to take photographs. She caught a graceful Great Blue Heron taking flight, its wide wingspan blocked the sun as it flew overhead.
“Did you see that?” Lexie squealed.
The captain expertly steered the boat down a small canal, the shrimp jumping as the wake of the boat reached the shoreline. He cut the engine and silence enveloped the duo. The smell of the pluff mud invaded Lexie’s senses.
“This is exquisite,” Lexie whispered.
A smile crept across the old captain’s face. Lexie snapped photographs, changing lenses as the situation dictated. The two drifted along in silence.
“Hey Captain, what do you think of that land development company trying to build a bridge to Spirit Island?”
“Those bastards make my ass itch.”
Lexie laughed. “You have a way with words, Captain.”
“I call it like I see it.”
Meade dug two bottles of beer out of the cooler and offered one to Lexie.
“No, thank you. It’s too early for me to drink a beer.”
“Suit yourself.”
He put the one beer away and handed Lexie a bottle of water.
“I’ve heard the people on Spirit Island are Gullah, but I’m not sure what that really means,” Lexie said.
“The Gullah are the descendants of African slaves who lived in the Lowcountry region of Georgia and South Carolina.”
“So, the people on the island are all descendants of slaves? That’s really interesting. I’ve heard the term Geechee too. What is Geechee?”
Captain Meade took a swig of his beer before answering. “The Gullah people and their language are both called Geechee.”
“Wow,” Lexie said. “So they have their own language and everything?”
“The Gullah people speak an English-based creole language. The Gullah crafts, food, folk beliefs, and story-telling traditions come from Central and West African cultures.”
“That’s amazing,” Lexie said. “But now some rich land developer wants to come in and change their whole way of life. I see why whoever sabotaged their work site did it. You hear anything about who did it?”
The captain gave Lexie a wary look. “Why would I know anything about that?”
Lexie realized she may have pushed things too far and struggled for a quick answer.
“Because you live here and I’m sure you hear things.”
“I hear a lot of things, but who knows what’s true and what’s wild stories.”
“What have you heard about the bridge incident?” Lexie asked. “It seems like a big deal to me, but I haven’t seen much in the paper or heard anyone talking about it.”
“If you’re here to take photos, then you need to point that fancy camera of yours over yonder. There’s a big bull gator laid up in the marsh.”
Lexie realized the captain was uneasy with the questions and had purposely changed the subject. She wondered why he seemed touchy about the subject.
Lexie grabbed her camera and snapped photos of the alligator.
“Wow, he’s big,” she said.
“I’d like to kill that monster and take him home, but the fish sheriff might get me.”
“What’s a fish sheriff?”
“Girl, don’t you know anything? A fish sheriff is a game warden who works the waters. A rabbit sheriff is a game warden who works on land.”
“Got it,” Lexie said. “Captain, have you ever really killed an alligator?”
Captain Meade paused then answered slowly, as if repeating a memorized phrase, “I would never kill an alligator because that’s illegal in the state of Sout
h Carolina. Why you asking?”
“Just curious. I wouldn’t even know how to kill a gator. Are they good eating?”
“Damn good eating. After you harvest the meat, you can tan the hide.”
“How do you kill something that size?” Lexie asked, pointing at the alligator.
“To kill a gator that size, you’d sneak up on him at night and bury an ax right behind his eyes. It better be a damn good whack cuz you don’t want a pissed off gator.”
“Are you messin’ with me?”
“I’m telling you the truth, girl. After you kill the gator, you chop off his head and gullet. Then you skin the creature, harvest the meat, and tan the hide. You take the head and run a wire through it so you can hang it in the water. Mother nature’s creatures will help you clean it. Those little crabs will clean it down to the bone, so all you’re left with is the skull and teeth … or so I’ve been told.”
Lexie stared at the captain.
“Your mouth’s hanging open, girl.”
Lexie closed her gaping mouth. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or terrified.”
“A little danger makes life worth living,” Captain Meade said, smiling.
“Besides hunting alligators, what else do you do that’s dangerous?”
“Nothing I care to discuss with you. Let’s just say that an adrenaline rush every now and again lets a man know he’s alive and kickin’.”
Lexie stared at the captain, trying to figure out if she should classify him under friend or foe. “Can you teach me how to operate a boat like this?”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t afford $400 a day to charter your boat. I would like to get around some on my own.”
“You own a boat?”
“No. Not yet. I figure I could rent one to see if I liked it.”
“With all the money you saved up from your last job?”
The captain took another swig from his beer. His eyes were two slits staring over his sunglasses at Lexie. “How about you tell me the truth. Who are ya and what’re ya really doing out here?”
Lexie shifted positions. “I’ve told you. I recently moved here, love the area, and want to learn the waterways so I can take nature shots. Plus, I love being out on the water.”
“You looked like you loved the water when I saved your ass two days ago.”
Beyond the Cabin Page 5