Revenge at Sea: (Quint Adler Book 1)

by Brian O'Sullivan

  “I’ll call you in a few hours and we’ll meet. You’ll know everything I do,” I said.

  And I really did plan on meeting with him.

  But then everything changed.

  Again.

  After getting off the phone with Detective Kintner, I turned on the audio to Charles Zane’s car. There was nothing, but I kept it on just in case.

  About an hour later, I heard the engine roaring to life.

  A few minutes later, I heard Zane’s voice. As usual, I only heard his end.

  “I need something, Max,” Charles Zane said.

  Pause.

  “I want my boat.”

  Pause.

  “No, the big one.”

  Pause.

  “Because they are getting too close. Especially after this latest incident. I need to get out of Dodge for a while. Maybe be out at sea for the next six months. Shit, maybe dock at some place in South America and never come back.”

  Pause.

  “No. I don’t want a captain. I don’t want any deckhands. I don’t even want a cook. I’m trying to get away from people. Can’t you understand?”

  Pause.

  “I’ve captained many boats. I’ll be fine.”

  Pause.

  “Ninety minutes. I can feel different varieties of pigs bearing down on me. Local, FBI—shit, maybe I’m on the CIA’s radar. I need to get the fuck out of here and let things calm down.”

  Pause.

  “It’s docked in the Berkeley Marina, isn’t it?”

  Pause.

  “No, keep it there. A little less conspicuous than San Francisco.”

  Pause.

  “One more thing, Max. Since I’ll be commandeering this myself and I don’t know for how long, make sure you give me enough of everything. Gas. Food. Supplies. Etc.”

  Pause.

  “Thank you. Tell the others that I will be calling them once I’m off the coast with instructions for while I’m gone.”

  Pause.

  “And let them know there’s an extra bonus if they kill that Quint fuck. He’s behind all this, I just know it. And tell them to make him suffer.”

  Pause.

  “Thanks, Max. I’ll see you soon. And only you.”

  I was out of my apartment before having time to consider what I was doing. Before I’d fully digested everything he’d said.

  It’s like I was being forced to leave my place by some foreign entity. But I knew it was all me. I wanted this. To end it once and for all with Charles Zane. Hopefully with him being dead, although I knew I might well be me.

  I took the rental truck. The tinted windows could come in handy again.

  I’d spent some time by the Berkeley Marina over the years and knew it pretty well. It lay only a few short miles from Golden Gate Fields, but it felt like a different world.

  The marina was home to some of the most beautiful boats imaginable. If Golden Gate Fields was a boat, with the exception of the Turf Club, it would be a paddle boat.

  Despite a little traffic, I arrived in less than an hour. I entered and parked along the marina itself, getting as close to the water as I could, finding a spot in the last row of cars. I wanted to walk the shortest possible distance to Zane’s boat. Or ship. Or ocean liner. Whatever it was, I felt sure it was going to be extravagant.

  I hoped Zane’s boat was parked on the dock and I didn’t have to take a dinghy or swim out to it. That would present its own set of likely insurmountable problems.

  And what exactly was I going to do even if I got on the boat? Hit him over the head with an oar? Execute a citizen’s arrest? I was so far out of my league.

  I’d acted so instinctively that I hadn’t had time to organize any sort of plan. I just knew that if Zane was trying to flee the country, I couldn’t let it happen.

  I looked at the time. It had only been an hour since Zane had said ninety minutes. I had a little time. I knew this was going to be painful, but I had to call my mother. In case I didn’t make it out alive, I at least owed her that.

  She answered on the first ring.

  “Quint, how is Vegas treating you?”

  “I’m not in Vegas, Mom.”

  “I thought you said…”

  “I lied.”

  I hated interrupting my mother, but I had to. I couldn’t let her hijack the conversation.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going after Dad’s killer. I know you don’t like to talk about it and you still want to think it was a mugging. But it wasn’t. And the killer is still out there, walking around and probably enjoying fine wines and good food. I can’t have that.”

  “You’re scaring me, Quint.”

  “Mom, I just want to say how much I love you. And how much I loved Dad. It’s why I have to do what I’m about to do.”

  “Quint, slow down. Listen to me. Let the cops do their job.”

  I had to get off the phone soon or I never would.

  “Mom, I’ve got to go. Just know I did this because of how much I care about our family.”

  “Quint. Quint…”

  “Bye, Mom. I love you!”

  And I hung up. I’d never felt more guilty in my life. With all my heart, I wanted to call her back and apologize. But I couldn’t.

  Next, I called Cara. I didn’t look forward to this call either, but I knew it wouldn’t be as emotional as the call to my mother.

  “Hey, baby,” she answered.

  “You know how much I love you, don’t you, Cara?”

  “I do. You may not say it all the time, but I know.”

  “You and my family. Those are the two things that I love the most in this whole world.”

  “Well, thanks,” she said, but I could tell she was suspicious.

  “And if anyone ever did anything to you, I’d seek revenge no matter what the consequences.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to me, Quint.”

  “Yeah, but something happened to my father. And I now have a chance to avenge his death.”

  “Please don’t do what you are thinking about doing,” Cara said, starting to stammer.

  An astute woman, she could tell how consequential this moment was.

  “I have no choice. Listen, if I somehow don’t make it out of this, I want you to look after my mother.”

  “No! No, no, no, no! You can’t put that on me. Come back to Walnut Creek. Come by my place and let’s talk.”

  “It’s too late for talking,” I said. “I have to do this.”

  I didn’t know if it was the intensity of my own voice, or her realizing she couldn’t change my mind, but I was shocked by what she said next.

  “Well, if that’s the way it’s going to be, then do a good fucking job of it. And come back safe to me.”

  “I will,” I said.

  “I love you, Quint.”

  “I love you, Cara. Goodbye.”

  “For now! It’s goodbye for now! Okay? I’ll see you soon,”

  “I’ll see you soon,” I said and ended the call.

  There was one more phone call I had to make. For this one, I grabbed the burner phone, knowing it would be tougher to trace.

  “Detective Kintner speaking.”

  “It’s Quint.”

  “What time are you coming in?”

  “I’m not.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing. Just listen to me, Ray. If you don’t, I will hang up the phone.”

  “Alright. Speak your piece.”

  “I was the one outside of the Anderson house on Friday night. I’m the one who called 9-1-1. Doug Anderson, and another man, a short, squat guy, carried two long packages out of the Andersons’ house. They were duct taped, but I’m almost positive they were bodies. One was the size of an adult. The other was smaller, maybe a teenager.”

  I heard Kintner sigh on the other end.

  “They saw the light from my phone when I called 9-1-1 and they sped away. I’m scared that the adult body might have been Annie Ivers’s. That’s w
hy I called her so many times Saturday, before the media had released that she was missing. Because I suspected it from the moment I saw that bag being carried out of Anderson’s house.”

  “Can I interrupt for one second, Quint?”

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “We found blood in Ms. Ivers’s home. A lot of it. I’d be shocked if she’s still alive.”

  If I wasn’t careful, I easily could have gotten choked up for another senseless death. I had really liked Annie Ivers. And while my soul ached for her, I knew I had to remain as composed as possible for what lay ahead.

  “Charles Zane is a monster. So is Doug Anderson. Annie was a very nice woman. Listen, Detective Kintner. Ray. I’m going to get off the phone soon, but I just wanted to tell you this. Charles Zane knew about the two murders. He told Doug Anderson to throw the bodies in the ocean. You don’t want to know how I found this out. But I’m telling you the truth. And I can’t sit idly by and let this continue to happen.”

  “What are you planning on doing, Quint?”

  It was the third time I’d been asked that in the last several minutes. For good reason, obviously.

  “Avenging my father,” I said.

  “How? Where? Give me a clue, maybe I can help.”

  I couldn’t risk the police showing up. They’d fucked this thing up way too many times along the way. But if I ended up being murdered somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, I wanted to at least give them a reference point that might lead them back to Zane.

  “Do you know Charles Zane’s nickname?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “It’s an old one. It’s not used much anymore because he murdered the person who originated it.”

  “What’s the point of this?”

  “I’m giving you your hint.”

  “But I don’t know his nickname.”

  “Well, if you did, and I told you that I was going to fight him on his own turf, you’d make the connection.”

  “I’m lost,” Ray said.

  “I’m not. I finally know what I have to do,” I said.

  He knew I was getting off the phone.

  “Good luck, Quint. Hope this isn’t goodbye.”

  I thought of Cara.

  “Goodbye for now,” I said.

  34.

  The next twenty minutes felt like two hours. More than anything, I wanted to walk around the docks and ask which boat was Charles Zane’s. But I had to be inconspicuous. I couldn’t be roaming around the marina when he arrived.

  And I still didn’t have any worthwhile plan. I didn’t even have a weapon if the chance to take down Zane ever presented itself.

  I was winging it. At the worst time possible.

  One small thing weighed in my favor. Zane had said he didn’t want anyone else on the boat. It gave me a fighting chance. If, by some small miracle, I was able to get on it without him seeing me.

  But then what? Knock him out, torture him, and threaten to feed him to the sharks? As much as I wanted Charles Zane dead, and to find out the truth about my father, I’m not sure I could go to those extremes.

  As my mind wandered, something caught the corner of my eye. Two men had just stepped onto the docks.

  I looked over. One of the men was Charles Zane. It all hit home in that moment, the seriousness of my actions. This was finally going to be decided. One way or the other.

  They were walking in my direction and would pass by my car from my left side. If I rolled down my driver’s side window, they’d see me. So I rolled down the passenger side to try and hear what they were saying.

  They approached.

  “As you can see, ZANY is docked about three boats down. It’s truly a spectacular boat, Charles. It was an honor driving it, even if only to bring it to the dock itself. I’ve already gassed it, but there are some other supplies I haven’t had time to load. Since you wanted me to do this all myself.”

  They were about to walk right by my car, but the window was only halfway down, and unless they turned around and looked directly through the passenger window, they wouldn’t see me.

  “You’ve done a great job, Max. I want to get out of here ASAP, so let me help you bring some of those supplies down. How many loads have we got?”

  “Probably two. Three max. And then you’re ready to go.”

  They stopped walking, likely because they would be doubling back to get the supplies.

  “Well, let’s get to it,” Zane said.

  They turned around and walked back up the dock. When they were far enough away, I got out of my car, and headed along the waterfront. I was looking for a boat called ZANY. The narcissistic nature of the name was somehow perfect. I expected nothing less.

  I found it at the end of the dock. And I immediately knew why they put it there. It was twice the size of any other boat around, and parking it between two others would have been next to impossible. Really, calling it a boat was like calling a stretch limo a car. It was a yacht. And it was the most spectacular one I’d ever seen. It was like a mini cruise ship.

  Probably fifty feet long, it stood higher in the water than any yacht I’d ever seen.

  ZANY sprawled in huge navy-blue lettering on the stern. The rest was a breathtaking shiny white that looked like it had been painted that morning. Or more precisely, glossed. Zig-zagging lines of the navy blue played well off the shiny white.

  I’d guess it would have fit twenty-five people, maybe more, on its three levels. On the bright side, there would be places to hide if need be.

  The bow of the yacht held two small tables and padded seating from which you could look out on the ocean ahead of you. It was a different life, that’s for sure. I would have been jealous. If it hadn’t been built on the blood of others.

  On the side of the yacht, in small cursive, I read Ferreti Yachts: Model 920. I didn’t know much about yachts, but I did know Ferretis were world famous. I’d guess the yacht cost millions of dollars. It was spectacular in every sense of the word.

  I started to realize I was ogling. Not the time.

  I had to make a decision. And quick.

  Looking up toward the top of the marina, I didn’t see Zane and his friend walking toward the dock yet. But it could happen at any moment.

  It was time to make up my mind. And then I saw my father’s face, and a lifetime of memories flashed before me. I knew there was no turning back.

  I stepped onto the back of the boat and realized I had to get below deck immediately. If they saw someone walking along the docks, their suspicions wouldn’t be aroused. Seeing someone standing on the yacht was a different story entirely.

  I surveyed the three levels: the top, where the helmsman/captain would drive the boat, the main level where I’d entered, and the below-deck area. Which is where I needed to be.

  I climbed the elegant teakwood ladder down to the luxury sleeping quarters. This would be where people would stay if Zane took them out for the night. Which wouldn’t be the case today since there was only one other passenger. Me.

  I saw two doors and opened each. Both guest cabins had a sizable bed that dropped down from the wall. I also found a bathroom and a small kitchen area.

  Some voices came down the docks. I recognized Zane’s immediately. I’d spent too many hours listening to him in his car over the last week.

  He had a confident, intense voice that I’m sure women went nuts over. I had come to despise it.

  They were quickly approaching the boat. I didn’t have much of a decision: either one of the two small rooms.

  I chose the one farthest away from the ladder. The room was small, but with the bunk beds still in the wall, I had enough space. I shut the door behind me.

  A glass window, about two feet wide by one foot long, offered a view just a little above the water. Even in the sleeping quarters, this yacht had thought of everything.

  Hearing the two men walk onto the boat, I tried to remain completely silent. Even the slightest noise might have been a death sentence.


  They were walking down the ladder a few seconds later.

  “And I checked the hot plates. They’re working fine,” the man named Max said.

  “Good.”

  “You’ve probably got enough food for a month if you need it.”

  I heard them set some boxes down. The sounds came from the other side of the bottom level.

  “I said I might be gone several months. I didn’t mean I’d be sailing in the middle of the Pacific the whole time. I’m sure I’ll head landward well before a month,” Charles Zane said.

  “Where do you think you’ll go? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Probably better I don’t tell you, Max. Just in case.”

  “I understand, Charles.”

  “But maybe I’ll hit up some coastal town in Mexico. Live on fresh fish and young women.”

  “Wish I could join you.”

  “Not this time. Need to keep my distance for a while.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m putting you in charge while I’m gone. I’ll still be checking in when I have the ability to. But you’ve been with me long enough. Do what I would do.”

  “I will.”

  “And I’m serious about Quint Adler. Please make him suffer. He’s been a pain in my ass for the last few months. Don’t make it easy like we did on his father.”

  It took all of my power not to break down the door and attack Charles Zane. But I had to bide my time. Two on one was a losing proposition. In fact, so was one on one after what I heard next.

  “We won’t make it easy, like with a gun. Speaking of which, I’ve left a handgun for you. I’m sure it won’t be necessary, but just being cautious. It’s in the glove box on top, right next to the ship’s wheel.”

  They shuffled some boxes.

  “Maybe I’ll shoot a few tuna. Have some fresh sushi,” Zane said.

  Max laughed too hard. “You’ll find a way to eat well even out on the ocean.”

  “Alright, let’s go back up and get that final load. I don’t think we’ll need a third trip.”

  “Me either. We’ll put it in one of the rooms. You don’t want too many loose boxes down here.”

  I heard them go back upstairs and start walking down the dock.

  Logically, being in the room farther away, it was less likely they would set the supplies where I was. But that wasn’t calming in the moment as my mind visualized them opening the door and finding me there. I tried not to imagine the pain they’d inflict on me.