by Tripp Ellis
I thanked Mark for his assistance in dispatching the assassin.
"Are you kidding me?" he replied with a grin. "It was fun. How often do you legitimately get to shoot at somebody?"
His girlfriend smacked him in the arm.
"What?" Mark asked innocently.
"It's still a human being. What if you would have killed him? Do you think you could live with that on your conscience?"
"Hell yes. He was trying to kill Tyson. He probably would have killed us next."
"Trust me," I said. "He was a bad man. He was a killer for the cartel, responsible for hundreds of deaths. Nobody's going to miss him."
Jen sighed. "I don't know. It just weirds me out. The whole thing is creepy. I wish it would never have happened."
"I understand."
“What will happen now?" Jen asked.
"I'll go back to Coconut Key and try to find out exactly why this man tried to kill me and who hired him." I paused. "If Coconut Key still exists."
There was a grim silence.
"Don't worry,” Mark said. “We’ve got your back if you need witnesses to say that he came after you."
"Thanks. I appreciate that. I don't think it's going to be an issue.”
Jennifer had an uneasy scowl on her face. "So, you're just going to leave the body out here like it never happened?"
"If it would make you feel better, we can call the Coast Guard. We can all make an official statement. I'm sure if the cartel knew your names they might attempt to retaliate.“
Jennifer's eyes widened with concern. "On second thought, I don't think we need to call the Coast Guard.”
“I thought you might see it that way.”
I shook hands with Mark, and Jennifer gave me a hug. Sandra and I boarded the tender, and I took her back to the Slippery Kitty.
"Well, Tyson. It sure was an adventure," Sandra said.
"That it was."
"Are you in a hurry to get back to Coconut Key? I mean, the adventure doesn't have to end just yet," she said with a lustful smirk.
I figured a short delay wouldn't be a problem.
35
Hurricane Celeste had nothing on Sandra. She was full of energy, and together we caused quite a ruckus. We had the entire cove to ourselves, and that was probably a good thing. We caused the boat to rock furiously and probably scared a few fish.
When it was all over with, I collapsed beside her, a slick, sweaty mess. The Slippery Kitty had certainly earned its name.
Sandra was right—the storm would have been much more fun weathering it together. But this wasn’t too shabby.
She stroked my chest as she lay beside me, our bodies entwined. "You have to come visit me in Key Largo sometime."
"I just might have to.” I smiled.
We both knew this wasn't anything more than a fun diversion after a stressful 72 hours, but the door was certainly open for another adventure.
We said our goodbyes, and I made my way back to the Wild Tide. I checked the systems and cranked up the boat. The engines burbled.
I couldn't believe I had gotten through the storm unscathed.
I navigated out of the cove and glanced to the crocodiles sitting on the shore, looking fat and happy. I couldn’t help but grin.
Sandra followed me out of the cove and into the canal. She texted me goodbye and said she'd keep in touch.
I throttled up and brought the boat on plane. I was anxious to get back to see just how bad the devastation was.
On the way back, I talked to Madison. She was fine.
“We ended up turning this into a mini-vacation,” she said. “We are in Daytona Beach. We’re probably going to stay here a few more days.”
“That’s a good idea. I don’t think you need to rush getting back to Coconut Key. I’m on my way now, and I’ll let you know how the restaurant fared.”
She groaned. “I’ve been watching the news all day. I don’t even want to know.”
I told her I’d keep in touch, then called JD.
"Buddy and Fluffy are just fine," JD said.
"Thanks for taking care of them."
"At this point, I'm not really sure what to do. I don't even know if we have a home to go back to," JD said. "I figure we’ll stay up here for a few days at least. No sense in going back to Coconut Key if there's no food, water, or gas.” He sighed. “How did the boat make out?"
"No wind damage.” I paused. “A few bullet holes and some bloodstains."
“What?” JD grumbled.
I filled him in on everything that had happened.
“Damn, brother. Can't you go anywhere without someone trying to kill you?"
"I'm just a likable kind of guy I guess."
JD scoffed.
I told him I'd call him when I got back to Coconut Key and had surveyed the damage.
36
The destruction around Coconut Key was heartbreaking. Sailboat masts poked out of the water. The shore was lined with boats that had broken free from their moorings. The beaches were covered with seaweed and debris. Palm trees had been uprooted. The entire island was without power.
I idled through the devastation, making my way back to the marina at Diver Down, wondering if it still existed.
The floating dock with high pylons survived relatively intact. A few planks had been ripped away by the wind. The real damage came from several boats that weren’t secured properly. They broke loose and demolished a section of the dock and pushed several boats ashore.
I pulled into my slip and tied off. It was a miracle that the structure was mostly intact. I scaled the transom and made my way down the dock to the restaurant.
It seemed to have survived.
But the nearby buildings weren’t so lucky. Their roofs had been completely torn off.
The area was deserted.
Diver Down had been through many storms before, and it had always come out okay. The elevation was typically above the storm surge.
I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. There weren’t any immediate signs of water damage. But sometimes it can take a little while before the damage becomes apparent.
I moved upstairs and checked for any signs of leaks or water damage, then called Madison and told her that everything looked okay. There were a few trees down, and the wind had moved the dumpster 20 yards. The outside deck needed work, and I wasn’t sure what condition the roof was in, but all things considered, we got lucky.
I told her to stay where she was at. There was no point in coming back to Coconut Key just yet. With no food, water, or city services, it was a wasteland.
There were several people who rode the storm out and defied evacuation orders. Some of them were prepared, and some of them weren’t. Survivors roamed the streets, gawking at the destruction, looking to scavenge food and water.
Over the next few days, I did my best to clean up the debris from the area around Diver Down and the marina. I raided the storage area of the restaurant and loaded a backpack with bottled water and canned goods. Then I roamed the streets, passing the items out to people in need.
It was two days before the National Guard arrived. They rolled into town in big trucks and passed out water and MREs. Helicopters pattered overhead, and news crews gathered footage of the destruction.
Some streets were still flooded. Trees had toppled, downing power lines, crashing through roofs. Cars were totaled by flying debris and flood damage.
The former paradise looked like a war zone.
After a few days, the sides of roadways started to pile up with debris, waterlogged appliances, wet sheet rock, and moldy insulation.
There were boats everywhere—even along the side of the highway.
Soon, hordes of insurance adjusters would swarm the area, followed by contractors looking to make a quick buck. Half of the contractors would take a deposit, never to be seen again.
At night I stood guard, protecting the area from looters. The storm brought unscrupulous types into the area, looking to abscond with
anything that wasn't nailed down.
I was happy to give away what food and water I could part with, but I didn't want anybody stealing it, then turning around and selling it at gouged prices to the needy. I'd seen more than a few trying to sell a 24 pack of water for $100—water they had stolen from an aid truck.
These kinds of natural disasters bring out the best and the worst in humanity. It never ceases to amaze me what some people are willing to do for a buck.
The island was aglow with power by day seven, and more residents began to return. Things wouldn't be normal in Coconut Key for a long time. But people were beginning to go back to their old lives and start the long, arduous process of rebuilding.
JD and Scarlett returned to the island, and they dropped off Buddy and Fluffy. The little Jack Russell Terrier was excited to see me. And, I had to admit, I was excited to see him.
His tail wagged, and he jumped up and down.
I scooped him up and hugged him, and the little guy licked my face. Fluffy couldn't care less. She pranced around the salon, found a cozy spot, and plopped down with her tail in the air. It was her world. We just lived in it.
"How did you make out at the house?" I asked. “It didn’t look too bad from the outside.”
"There's a little roof damage. Water got into the wall wells. I'm going to have to pull out a few walls, replace the sheet rock and insulation. Carpet is gone in two rooms. I'm sure I'll find more damage.” JD had a grim look on his face.
"Let me know if you need any help."
"I sure will."
Scarlett gave me a hug. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"It was an adventure," I said.
JD surveyed the Wild Tide. “It looks pretty good, except for the bullet holes.”
"I told you. That hurricane hole is magic."
JD glanced around the marina, looking at the devastation. "Where's your cranky neighbor?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since before the storm." I pointed to a boat on shore. “That’s his. I sure hope h got out of here."
JD shook his head. "Some people never learn."
He and Scarlett left, and I put food and water out for Buddy and Fluffy. It looked like I was going to be hanging onto the cat for a little longer than I thought. The animal shelter wasn't in any condition to take on new pets at the moment. They had their hands full caring for the ones they had, and the countless strays that roam the island.
I put in some wireless earbuds and took Buddy for a walk. We went to his usual spot, then continued strolling around the wasteland. More and more debris was piling up curbside as people removed damaged furniture and other household items.
My phone kept dropping the Bluetooth connection to the ear buds. I wasn’t sure why. I kept fiddling with it when I got back to the Wild Tide. I launched the settings app and clicked on the Bluetooth icon. It read: Tyson's earbuds not connected.
I pressed the button and watched it spin as it tried to look for the device and connect. I noticed there was another Bluetooth device available. Fluffy.
My face twisted, confused at first. Then I realized it must be the Bluetooth connection to her ID collar.
I paired my device with the collar. From the Files app on my phone I was able to see the contents of the drive contained within Fluffy’s collar. It had health information, contact information for Sapphire, a list of inoculations, and several other files. There was a video file and several audio files. At first, I didn't think much of it. But I decided to watch the video file—and I was in for quite a surprise.
37
The video was footage of Thunder Rain doing what Thunder did best.
Mayor Styles seemed to thoroughly enjoy her talent.
From what I could tell, the two were going at it hot and heavy in one of the VIP rooms in Forbidden Fruit. Thunder must have placed a small camera in the corner of the room. I watched the entire video, strictly for law enforcement purposes.
The two audio files were recorded phone conversations between Thunder and the mayor. I listened to the calls.
"I don't know what you're hoping to gain by all this?” the mayor said.
"You know exactly what I'm hoping to gain. I want $1 million, or I'm going to the press."
"You wouldn't dare," Styles said.
Thunder laughed. "I don't think I'm being unreasonable. You can kiss your election goodbye, and I don't think your wife is going to be too happy. And I think your partnership with the cartel is going to go south."
"You are in way over your head," Styles said.
"I think you're the one in over your head. If I don't have the money in my account within 48 hours, I'm going to the press."
"Thunder, I swear to God. You don't want to do that."
"Why? You gonna kill me?" She scoffed. "That will look real good on the evening news."
Styles sighed. "Okay. Fine. But I can't get the money that fast."
"I don't care how you do it. Just do it! And just in case you think I'm bluffing, I'll send you a copy of the video footage I have, along with the DNA results that will conclusively prove you are the father of my baby."
I heard everything I needed.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Styles was in bed with the cartel. He was probably facilitating their operation somehow. A threat to the mayor was a threat to the cartel. They sent their hitman to neutralize the problem—Thunder Rain. As my investigation progressed, I became the problem. They needed Styles in office to ensure another four years of smooth business.
I was going to make sure Styles didn't get reelected.
I downloaded the files and made multiple copies. I put them on a thumb drive and uploaded them into the cloud. Then I posted the video on MyTube.
Mayor Styles was giving a press conference on the steps of City Hall, talking about the relief efforts and all his administration was doing to get Coconut Key back on its feet.
I watched on my flat-screen TV with a devilish grin on my face.
I tweeted a download link to every press outlet in Coconut Key. Then I sat back and waited for the fireworks.
By the end of the press conference, reporters were shouting questions at the mayor.
"Tell us about your relationship with Thunder Rain?
"Is it true she was pregnant with your child?”
"Did you hire a cartel hitman?"
A sly grin curled on my lips.
My work here was done.
The look on Styles's face was priceless.
It wasn't long after that when I got a call from Sheriff Daniels. "Something tells me you're the one responsible for that leaked footage of Mayor Styles?"
"What if I am?"
"I never liked that smarmy scumbag," Daniels said. "I'm reinstating you immediately."
"What if I like being retired?"
"You can stay retired until the end of the week. Then I need you back."
"Need?" I said. "Did I hear the word need?"
"Don't push your luck." Daniels hung up the phone.
I called JD and told him we were back in business. He had seen the whole thing on the news. "Glad that son-of-a-bitch got what he deserved. You think the cartel will still try to hit you?"
"What's the point now? Styles is going down in flames."
“Just keep an eye out. You never know. Those bastards might try to take you out just for the hell of it.”
“Bring it,” I said, full of myself.
“Settle down,” JD said. He changed the subject. “You know, I was thinking… Now might be a good time to do a little recce. With a storm like we just had, it can move things around on the seafloor. Now might be a good time to deploy the Scavenger sonar drone?”
The next day, we took the Wild Tide down to a spot north of Angelfish Key Island. We launched the drone, and with an app on JD’s phone, he plotted in the search grid. The advanced sonar would create a 3D image of the seafloor and anything just below the surface. With any luck, we’d stumble across the remains of an old pirat
e ship with $500,000,000 in Spanish gold.
JD grabbed two beers from the galley and handed one to me as he returned to the cockpit. The sun was high overhead, and the deep blue sky was clear as crystal. There was a slight breeze, and the seas were calm. It was hard to believe such a raging tempest had passed through not more than a week ago.
“Did you ever hear anymore from that FBI Special Agent, Peter Cullen?” JD asked.
“We talked a few times. He’s got an old cold case. Two men were killed with the same gun that most likely killed my parents. The ballistics matched.”
“Maybe you’re getting closer?”
“The two goons were drug dealers. Cullen thinks it was a buy gone bad. Their bodies washed up on shore. The Feds recovered a stolen boat later that was registered in the name of a known kingpin. A bullet pulled from the fiberglass on that boat matched the bullets found in the goons, which also matched the bullet Rory Tillman found on my parents’ boat.”
A curious look washed over JD’s face. “So who is the alleged kingpin they worked for?”
“You’re not going to believe me when I tell you.”
We twisted off the tops, clinked bottles, and sat in the mezzanine, sipping beer, talking shop, and dreaming of treasure.
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Author’s Note
Thanks for all the great reviews!
Hurricanes come and go, but the damage lingers. It’s almost 2 years since the last one hit my area, and I’m still rebuilding. My heart goes out to everyone affected by these storms.
I’m having a blast writing these stories, and I hope you are having as much fun with them as I am. Tyson and JD have more adventures on the way!
If you liked this book, let me know with a review on Amazon.