Beyond the Cabin

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Beyond the Cabin Page 9

by Dana Ridenour


  Lexie quickly deleted the text from her phone log in case the phone fell into the wrong hands.

  ***

  Captain Meade was sitting at one of the outside tables, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

  “What’s happening in the world today?” Lexie asked.

  “The fire department is having a fish fry tonight to raise money to help the Crenshaw family with medical bills. Evan Crenshaw has a young’un who has cancer. He’s a fisherman and can’t afford health insurance. The fire department is good about helping folks out in their time of need.”

  “That’s sad. You gonna go?” Lexie asked.

  “I’ll swing by for a spell. You?”

  “Sure. I won’t have to cook dinner and the money goes to help someone in need. Sounds like a win-win situation.”

  “Girl, you gotta learn to cook.”

  Lexie laughed.

  “Want a cup of coffee?” Meade asked.

  “Sounds good.” Lexie pulled a chair over and sat down beside the captain. He poured her a cup of tar black coffee from his thermos.

  Lexie took a sip and grimaced. “Strong,” she said.

  “It’s not that sissy coffee shop stuff,” Meade said, laughing.

  Lexie took another sip, allowing the robust flavor to linger in her mouth before swallowing.

  “It’s good,” she said. “Strong but good.”

  Otis Ray walked over to the table, grabbed a chair, and straddled it backwards.

  “What are you two renegades up to this morning?”

  The hair on the back of Lexie’s neck stood up when Otis Ray stared at her.

  “Going out to catch a fish or two,” Captain Meade said. “What about you, Otis Ray?”

  “Oh, you know, trying to stay out of trouble.”

  “Is that hard for you?” Lexie asked.

  As soon as she uttered the words, she regretted speaking.

  Otis Ray had a stare that reminded Lexie of a serial killer. He could fake nice, but his smile was menacing.

  “Sometimes, little lady. Sometimes.” Otis Ray glared at Lexie, chomping on a piece of gum. Lexie broke eye contact.

  “It’s going to be a hot one,” Lexie said, trying to change the subject.

  Otis Ray chewed his gum and smirked. “Yeah it is,” he said.

  “Well, we best get started,” Meade said to Lexie.

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “You have her trained well,” Otis Ray said.

  Lexie fought the urge to react. She gathered her stuff and followed the captain out to the boat.

  Once the two were away from the marina, Lexie plopped down beside the captain on the bench seat.

  “I don’t like that guy,” Lexie said.

  “Who?”

  “Otis Ray. He’s creepy.”

  “You need to stay away from him.”

  “What’s his story?”

  “He’s a wharf rat,” Meade said. “Always in some kind of trouble, so stay clear of him and stop antagonizing him.”

  “I wasn’t antagonizing him.”

  Captain Meade gave her a sideways expression.

  “Okay, maybe I was just a little. I couldn’t help it.”

  Meade shook his head.

  “What’re we gonna do today?” Lexie asked. “Our last day of training.”

  “I figured we’d work a little more on navigation, but first I’m gonna teach you to throw a cast net. Every Southern girl needs to be able to throw out a cast net for shrimp.”

  “Cool.”

  “I brought you a small net that my son used to use.”

  “You have a son?”

  “Yep. Matthew, but everyone calls him Matty.”

  “Does he live in the area?”

  “He’s part owner of a restaurant up in Myrtle Beach, so he lives up there.”

  “Do you get to see much of him?”

  “He stays pretty busy, but we get together every once in a while. What about you? Do you get along with your parents?” Meade asked.

  “Oh, sure. My parents are great.”

  Captain Meade sat staring at her. Waiting for her to elaborate.

  “I think my father is disappointed in me. At least in my choice of occupation.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He wanted a doctor or a lawyer, not a photographer. He never thought I pushed myself hard enough in school. I didn’t like school much and I wanted to be out in the world.”

  “I bet he’s proud of you,” Meade said.

  “I don’t think so. He keeps asking me when I’m going to get a real job.”

  “You’re still young. You got plenty of time to be a grown up.”

  “Tell that to my dad.”

  Captain Meade smiled. His blue eyes twinkled in a fatherly way.

  “I’m going to take you to my favorite shrimping spot. You gotta promise to take this secret to your grave.”

  Lexie raised her right hand as if taking an oath.

  “You have my solemn promise I will never disclose the location of your favorite shrimping location.”

  ***

  Thirty minutes later, Captain Meade had the boat anchored in a small canal. He showed Lexie how to hold the cast net using her teeth.

  “This is kind of gross,” Lexie said.

  “What’s gross?”

  “Putting this net in my teeth. It’s been lying all over the boat, probably in fish guts, and now I’m putting it in my mouth.”

  “You’re not supposed to be sucking on it. You’re just lightly holding it in your teeth.”

  Lexie scrunched up her face and placed the net in her mouth, preparing to throw it. She grasped the edge of the net with her hands as the captain had shown her. She threw the net, releasing the edge in her mouth a little late, causing the net to collapse before it hit the water.

  “Damn it,” Lexie said.

  “You’ll get it. Try again. You need to find your rhythm.”

  Lexie hauled in the net, shook it out, and set up again.

  “Bend your knees.”

  Lexie obeyed and gave it another throw.

  “Better,” Meade said. “Keep practicing.”

  Captain Meade grabbed the larger cast net, stepped to the front of the boat, and tossed the net, which fanned out into a perfect oval. He pulled in a net filled with shrimp and a few shiny minnows. Meade shook the bounty out into a bucket, picked through the contents, and threw the small fish back into the water.

  Lexie assumed her position up front and cast her net. This time it opened. It wasn’t a perfect cast, but it was good enough to catch a few shrimp.

  “I caught some, Captain! Look.”

  Captain Meade chuckled. “You sure did.”

  He helped her empty her few shrimp into the bucket.

  “We’re gonna starve if that’s the best you can do.”

  Lexie rolled her eyes and repositioned herself for another cast, this time even more determined. The next cast yielded six shrimp.

  “Whoo hoo. I’m getting better.”

  Captain Meade laughed and tossed out another perfect cast. He pulled in at least twenty nice size shrimp.

  After an hour or so, Lexie was consistently hauling in a good number of shrimp. She stopped and stretched her back.

  “This is hard work,” she said.

  “You’re young. How do you think my old back feels?”

  “You’re not that old,” Lexie said.

  Captain Meade smiled. “Looks like we have a nice haul. Let’s head these babies. Do you know how to head shrimp?”

  “I’m from Alabama. Of course I know how to head shrimp.”

  Lexie put her left hand in the bucket moving it in a circular motion, winding the whiskers of the shrimp around her hand. She pulled out ten shrimp hanging from their whiskers. Then, with her right hand, she individually pinched the heads off and placed the shrimp bodies in a clean cooler that Captain Meade placed in front of her.

  “Nice job,” Meade said.

 
Lexie smiled and gathered up another group. She headed the whole bucket of shrimp in record time.

  “I might have to keep you around, girl.”

  Lexie’s grin stretched across her slightly sunburned face.

  “Thanks for all the training this week, Captain.”

  “It was my pleasure. You’re a quick study.”

  “This has been one of the best weeks of my life,” Lexie said.

  The sentiment was real for Lexie. She enjoyed spending time with Captain Meade and was sorry that the week was over.

  “I’ve enjoyed the week as well,” Meade said. “You interested in helping out if I have a charter? I can’t pay you, but you could get extra boat training and you get to keep all your tips.”

  “I would love to. I would work for you for free.”

  “You would be working for free,” Meade said, laughing.

  Lexie realized how important this man had become to her. A wave of guilt washed over her. Working in an undercover capacity meant betraying everyone you came in contact with, including innocent people like Captain Meade. She had a sick feeling in her stomach.

  “What’s the matter?” Meade asked.

  Lexie snapped back to reality.

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”

  “Guess I’m bummed that today is our last training day.”

  “You can always hire me for another week.”

  Lexie laughed. “I can’t afford another week of training. That’s why I’ll be happy to help you with charters. Free training.”

  That was the beauty of undercover work. Lexie made up her own schedule and worked where and when she needed to work. Undercover agents had to be self-reliant and able to think outside the box.

  “Let’s get some ice on these beauties,” Captain Meade said.

  Lexie enjoyed the rest of the day, savoring every minute with the captain. She listened to his Lowcountry tales, not sure which ones were real and which ones he made up.

  The captain took his time getting them back to the marina. Although Lexie and Captain Meade were an unlikely duo, their friendship had developed into something wonderful. He enjoyed teaching and she enjoyed learning. It was as if each of them had a hole that needed to be filled, and this unconventional friendship made them both more complete.

  Lexie helped the captain scrub down the boat. Captain Meade put the freshly caught shrimp into a small styrofoam cooler and handed it to Lexie.

  “What’s this?” Lexie asked.

  “You take the shrimp. It’s your first cast net haul.”

  “Are you sure? Want to split them?”

  “Naw. You take them. I can get a cooler full anytime. You caught most of ‘em, so you need to take them home.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you know how to cook shrimp?” Meade asked sarcastically.

  “I’m like Forrest Gump’s friend Bubba when it comes to shrimp. I can’t cook much else, but I can fix shrimp fifty different ways.”

  Captain Meade smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  17

  The next morning, Lexie met Zach and Don in North Myrtle Beach for breakfast. She didn’t feel comfortable meeting them close to where she was working.

  Lexie took a sip from her steaming hot cup of coffee.

  “What’s going on with GRI?” she asked.

  “Zach and I met with Dwight Jacobson yesterday at his office. He’s definitely a pompous ass.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Zach added.

  Don continued. “GRI ramped up the building plans for the bridge. Jacobson seems determined to not allow the ELF terrorists to waylay his plans for the bridge. He hired a militia-style private security firm to guard the construction site at night and installed high-end security cameras around the perimeter.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Lexie said. “I hope no one gets hurt.”

  Don and Zach nodded.

  “We took your advice and did a little more checking into the background of Jacobson’s two sons: Jeffrey and Aaron. Jeffrey goes by JJ and after a little digging, we found out he was living in the Portland area. Dwight claims to have no contact with JJ.”

  “What about the brother? Does Aaron have contact with JJ?” Lexie asked.

  “That’s where it gets interesting,” Zach said. He leaned over the table so he could speak a little softer. “The father says no. He claims that no one in his family has had contact with JJ in over ten years. However, I pulled Aaron’s cell phone records and it turns out he consistently calls a Portland cell phone. I’ve subpoenaed the Portland number, but I bet you dollars to donuts, the number comes back to JJ.”

  “Great work, Zach,” Lexie said.

  Zach puffed his chest out and grinned.

  “Have you interviewed Aaron yet?”

  “Not yet,” Zach answered. “We decided to wait until we get the subscriber information back from the cell phone company. If the number comes back to JJ, then we can hit him with that information and see why he’s been lying to his father.”

  “Maybe JJ and Aaron are in cahoots to bring down their father?” Lexie speculated.

  “We thought about that, too,” Don said. “But why? And why now? Aaron seems to like living the high life on his GRI salary. He drives around in his fancy sports car, drinking expensive bourbon and picking up cheerleaders.”

  “We followed him around a couple of nights,” Zach added. “The kid likes to party.”

  “I thought you said he was a low-level executive at GRI.”

  “He is, but I’m sure he’s still raking in the bucks.”

  “What’s the age difference between JJ and Aaron?” Lexie asked.

  “Five years,” Zach answered.

  “So, if JJ has been gone from the area for ten years, that means he left home when Aaron was eighteen. It would make sense that Aaron and JJ are in contact and that they wouldn’t tell their father.”

  “I think so, too,” Zach said. “I’m four and a half years older than my brother and he and I are really close. I can’t imagine not being in contact with my brother. I’m going to stay on the JJ and Aaron angle.”

  “Good idea,” Lexie said.

  “So, what do you have for us?” Don asked.

  Lexie gave a synopsis of her week to the two agents. She explained how she had ingratiated herself with many of the locals.

  “I know that you don’t want to hear this, but I really think there might be a connection between the seaplane and the ELF actions.”

  “Here we go again,” Don said, shaking his head.

  “How so?” Zach asked.

  “I’m not completely sure, but doesn’t it seem strange that this seaplane makes nighttime landings in the same area where the ELF actions occurred? And what is the pilot doing landing at night? And where is the ELF contingent staying?”

  “How do you know there is more than one ELF person? Maybe it’s a lone wolf situation.”

  “It seems like more of a coordinated effort,” Lexie said. “The way they hit the foreman’s house so quick, doing a significant amount of damage in a short amount of time. I think it would take more than one person to pull that off.”

  “Even so,” Don said, “why do you think the seaplane is connected?”

  “I’m wondering if the seaplane could be bringing supplies to the ELF activists. Or perhaps shuttling the activists in and out of the area.”

  “That seems improbable to me,” Don said.

  “Then what do you think the seaplane pilot is doing?” Lexie asked.

  “I think what everyone else thinks. He’s running drugs.”

  “I agree,” Lexie said. “But I also think he might be involved in our case as well.”

  “You don’t have anything tying that plane to our case, so you need to concentrate on this case. Lexie, you’ve been out here a couple of months and you haven’t produced a single item of evidence, or even a lead.”

  “That’s not fair, Don. This
kind of investigation takes time. I show up here and you don’t have any leads or a single source of information. It would help if you had an informant in the area. You can’t expect an undercover agent to produce miracles. I’m working as fast as I can.” Lexie felt her face flush.

  “I’m not expecting a miracle from you. But I do think you could be doing something besides gallivanting around with that boat captain learning to do whatever—”

  “I’m doing the best that I can,” Lexie seethed. “Do you have any grand ideas you want me to try?”

  Silence.

  “I thought not. At least I’m trying something.”

  “What you’ve tried hasn’t produced a single lead.”

  Lexie bowed up and leaned over the table, but before she could address Don, Zach jumped into the conversation.

  “Stop it. We’re all on the same team.”

  Lexie glared at Don, grinding her back teeth.

  “We’re all under a significant amount of pressure,” Zach said. “But we have to work together.”

  Lexie relaxed her shoulders and blew out a deep breath.

  “I agree,” she said.

  “I ran the tag that you gave me,” Don said. “Otis Ray’s last name is Prichard. I ran his criminal history. He has a lengthy record. Mostly drug related offenses. He did have one felony assault arrest, but it was dismissed.”

  “Why was it dismissed?” Lexie asked.

  “I couldn’t tell from the printout, so I called the Charleston County Sheriff’s Office who had the case. I tracked down the deputy who arrested Prichard and talked to him yesterday.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said it was a barroom brawl between two rednecks. He remembered that Prichard beat the shit out of the other guy. The deputy arrested Prichard and the other dude was transported to the hospital with a severe concussion, and several deep facial lacerations. Prichard broke a beer bottle on the bar and slashed the guy across the face.”

  “How on earth was that case dismissed?” Lexie asked.

  “According to the deputy, the victim refused to press charges against Prichard. He said they had some sort of disagreement, and they were both to blame.”

  “What? That doesn’t seem right.”

  “The deputy said he wanted to charge Prichard with disturbing the peace, but since it was a misdemeanor offense, the district attorney wouldn’t fool with the case.”

 

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