A Fortune in Blood: A Florida Action Adventure Novel (Scott Jarvis Private Investigator Book 7)

by Scott Cook

  She shuddered in my arms, “I just felt this… I don’t know… this wave of guilt. Here we are on this luxury boat about to shower and eat and sleep in a big comfy bed… and Declan and Clay…”

  “I know,” I whispered and kissed the top of her head. “I know… but he’d be glad you were safe. Try not to think about it. For the time being, there’s nothing more we can do. We’ve got to rest and tomorrow I’ll start trying to locate where Garcia went.”

  Missy sighed and pulled herself together, “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Are you comin’ on to me?” I asked.

  Missy laughed and punched me in the shoulder, “Jerk!”

  “I won’t tell if you don’t,” I joked.

  Missy laughed again and headed out to find her cabin. I turned to Lisa, “You should go too. It’s been a long night.”

  Her sea blue eyes locked onto mine, “I can wait. I’ll help you in the galley or at least watch your back.”

  “You sure?”

  Lisa stepped up and tentatively reached out a hand to touch my chest. It was oddly demure in comparison to her aggressive kiss of a few hours ago.

  “Scott…” She began, not quite knowing what to say.

  “Lisa, it’s okay,” I said, taking her hand in mine. “I’m only sad that you felt you had to leave. But I understood your reasons… or, well… I understood your point of view, I guess.”

  “But who could understand leaving a man like you and the love we shared for a job?” Lisa asked half to herself and then sighed, “Because I can’t. And I can’t help feel it was the biggest mistake of my life.”

  “What’s done is done,” I said with a shrug.

  Lisa’s eyes grew moist, “Yeah… once a bridge is burned…”

  I pulled her in and hugged her, “That’s not what I meant, kid. I meant that there’s no point in agonizing over the past. Come on, let’s go rustle up some grub.”

  She laughed and we went down one level. Juan had not exaggerated, the galley was well provisioned. Both the walk-in freezer and the huge fridge were fully stocked.

  “They must be planning a cruise in the next couple of days,” I said to Lisa as I rummaged. “There’s a lot of stuff in here that won’t last more than a week.”

  “So what’re you making us, Paul Prudhomme?” Lisa teased.

  “What… you sayin’ I’m fat… or old…” I replied.

  She shook her head and chuckled, “I’ve missed you.”

  “Let’s see…” I pondered. “Don’t want to spend too much time… have to defrost… ah-ha!”

  I pulled out three pounds of ground sirloin that had not been frozen. I also pulled out a one pound block of sharp cheddar, a large bag of a mixed green salad and set them on the big stainless work table in the center of the galley.

  “Okay…” I muttered as I went into the walk-in pantry. “Yes!”

  “What?” Lisa prodded from her perch on a stool at the end of the work island.

  I emerged with my arms loaded. I held two large yellow onions, an industrial sized vat of some brand of salsa I’ve never heard of and a huge box of taco shells. Stacked precariously on top of this pile were several price club store sized plastic seasoning bottles.

  “We’re having tacos?” Lisa asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, carefully placing my goodies on the island. “Figured we were in Latin America and everything. Plus I figured you being a Mexican and all…”

  She threw the bag of greens at me, “Asshole!”

  I laughed and caught the bag in mid-flight, “Now that’s racist.”

  “What? How am I racist when you’re the one saying I’m a Mexican?”

  “Something wrong with being a Mexican?”

  “Well… no… but I’m Cuban.”

  “Misma diferencia, cabrona!”

  “Same difference…Oh, you’re gonna get such a slap!” Lisa said with a giggle.

  “Oh yeah?” I queried. “On my bum-bum?”

  She only shook her head and sighed happily, “There’s just nobody quite like you, Jarvis.”

  “And for that the world is no doubt grateful,” I self-effaced. “Okay, let’s get down to binness. Can you shred that cheese and tear up that salad? It’s got romaine, spinach and radicchio in it. It’ll make great lettuce. Also, I think there was a couple of tomatoes in the fridge if you could cut them up and prep them for me.”

  “I’ll get these shells ready too,” Lisa said, pulling the big box over, “Says there are soft and hard shells in here.”

  “Cool,” I remarked. “I’m sure there are plenty of utensils and stuff in here, we just have to find them… oh, and hey… can you go aft and check the bar out? Juan said it’s stocked and I wouldn’t mind a beer. Need one for the meat, too.”

  “You do?” She asked a little confused.

  “Of course, chica… haven’t I ever made you my world famous tacos?”

  “No.”

  “Wow… that’s surprising… seein’ as how much you Mexicans like your tacos and such.”

  She laughed, swore at me and swatted my backside as she headed aft. I chuckled and began to combine the seasonings in a small bowl. There was some ready-made taco seasoning, which I did use. However, I also added a few extras like additional cumin, turmeric, garlic powder, cilantro, Italian seasoning and what looked to be a locally sourced chili powder. Normally, I make my own from fresh dried chilies, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  Chapter 17

  Lisa came back into the galley a moment later with three opened Dos Equis and handed me one. She’d even cut up a lime and already had a wedge inside two of the bottles.

  I held up my beer and said in an officious voice over guy’s tone: “he once parallel parked a train…”

  Lisa guffawed and joined in, “He once climbed Mount Everest just to take a leak.”

  It was my turn to laugh and in a deep and slightly gravelly Latin accent I continued: “I don’t always drink beer, but when I do… stay thirsty my friends!”

  We clinked and I took a deep pull from the delightfully cold bottle.

  “Man, that hits the spot,” Lisa observed. “Oh, I almost forgot… there’s a great stereo system on this deck. Bluetooth enabled, too.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked, stopping just before I was about to chop the onions. I pulled my phone out, glad to see it hadn’t been damaged during the excitement in Nicaragua and tapped it a few times. I connected to the stereo and launched my Spotify playlist, which I modestly and humbly call Aquatopia: The Official Scott Jarvis Playlist.

  After a moment, Steely Dan’s The Caves of Altamira flooded the bar, dining room and even the galley. I reduced the volume a bit and went back to cooking.

  “Can you bring me the rest of that lime?” “I asked Lisa as I began to sauté the onion.

  She set it next to me and I started to crumble up the lean beef in the huge skillet I was using at one of the big stoves. As it browned, I added my special seasoning mix, poured most of the remaining beer in and squeezed the rest of the cut lime in as well. I then covered the skillet with a lid that you could’ve used as an umbrella and went to wash my hands.

  “It’s a beautiful thing,” Lisa commented.

  “Oh… is my fly open or something.”

  She laughed out loud, “I meant watching you cook, loco.”

  “Hey, we having a piss up down here?” Gus Jeffries asked as he sauntered into the galley with a beer of his own.

  “I think so, mate,” I said in an Australian accent that was even better than his. “Why not? Figured we could use the break, eh?”

  Gus locked eyes with me and nodded, a sad smile on his face, “Blimey, mate… you’ve no idea. If you two hadn’t come along when you did…”

  “I’m sorry, Gus,” I said. We hadn’t had any time to get to know each other but he seemed a decent fellow. And having showered and shaved and having donned a very comfy looking complimentary bathrobe, he seemed like a new man.

  “I’
m all right,” He observed. Then in a more sullen tone: “Its Jen… they… they did things to her.”

  Missy had just come in from the bar as well, a beer in her hand and wearing a robe of her own. It suddenly struck me that nobody had anything to change into and until they found new clothes or did laundry, it would be robes all around.

  “You know?” Missy went over and put an arm around Gus’ shoulders.

  “Of course,” Gus said sadly. “She’s my wife.”

  Missy closed her eyes and sighed, “I’m so sorry, Gus… from the way you were acting, I thought you didn’t realize…”

  He only shrugged and downed a third of his beer, “I had to act ignorant, love. Couldn’t let Jen know I knew… she already feels such shame… if she thinks I don’t know… well, maybe it’ll help, at least for now.”

  Gus’ stock had just gone up a couple of points in my view. I could see by Missy’s expression that she felt the same.

  Before anyone could say anything, Julie strode in through the deck door. She too wore a robe. Her blonde hair was blow dried and carefully arranged. She’d even managed to find some makeup somewhere and applied lipstick and mascara.

  I noticed Lisa frown. I wasn’t quite sure why at first. I then saw Missy meet her eye, then they looked at me and then at the blonde. I knew then.

  For some reason, Julie had decided to take pains with her appearance. Seeing as there were only two men in the group and one was married, it didn’t take a famous private investigator novelist to figure out that she wanted to be noticed.

  Although why she did, I couldn’t have said. The few words we’d exchanged had all been tense or unpleasant. I suppose some mysteries weren’t meant to be solved.

  Not by us lowly men, at any rate.

  So I noticed. I gave her a lingering look and a smile. Nothing overt, but at least nobody could say I was a cold fish.

  “What’re we having?” Julie asked pleasantly.

  “Its taco Tuesday,” I said amiably, “or whatever the Christ day it is! And it looks like we’re having a toga party on top of it.”

  This last was said when the other two sisters, both terry cloth clad as well, entered the galley and looked around with pleased smiles on their pretty faces. The smells in the cooking area were promising.

  “Let’s all go into the bar and get set up,” Lisa suggested. “We can set up the taco bar and let Scott finish up in here.”

  “And make Scott a drink,” I suggested.

  “Hmmm…” Lisa said with a grin. “If it’s taco night… then don’t we need something to go with it?”

  “We got Dos Equis… y’know, on account of I’m the most interesting man in the world!” I intoned and then laughed, holding up my empty bottle. “Or we had dos Equis… so… so parched…”

  Everyone laughed. Lisa shook her head, “No… I think there’s a specific Mexican cocktail… don’t even, Jarvis… that goes with tacos.”

  “Oh, I get it,” I grumped good-naturedly. “Make me dinner, Jarvis… get us a cruise on a river boat, Jarvis… make your galactically-renowned hyper special double secret probation margaritas, Jarvis… where’s the love…? Shall there be no repose for the wicked?”

  Aubrey and Shelby entered the galley from the bar, each of them wearing a robe, too. I laughed.

  “What?” Shelby asked as she came over close to me to smell the taco meat. Then she wrinkled her nose.

  Aubrey did the same and they both giggled.

  “What?” I asked. “You guys don’t like tacos?”

  “We love them,” Aubrey said brightly. “It’s not the tacos.”

  She and Shelby giggled again. Shelby had a big grin on her face, “It’s you… now that we’re all cleaned up… you smell like a goat.”

  Everyone broke up. I hung my head in shame, “Gee whiz…”

  “How long until it’s ready?” Lisa asked when she quit laughing and wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Ten, fifteen minutes,” I said. “I’m just letting it simmer so the flavors can mature.”

  “Oh, listen to Alton Brown over here,” Ellen teased with a smile.

  “Then why don’t you get showered too,” Missy suggested, “and you too, Lisa. I’ll watch over the masterpiece. By the way, what do you need for your gritas?”

  I frowned, “No, ma’am. Nobody gets the recipe.”

  Julie scoffed, “Oh, come on. It’s pretty simple. Tequila and Margarita mix.”

  Lisa snorted, “Lady, you don’t even have a clue! You’ll find out.”

  “I’ll figure it out when I get back,” I said.

  It did feel good to scrub the grime away. Not to mention scrape off the bristles with the complimentary razor I found in the small head attached to my second-class stateroom. Although smaller than those on deck three, it was still a nicely appointed queen bed suite.

  Once I had donned my very own terrycloth bathrobe, I took my admittedly stinky clothes down the elevator to the crew deck which was mostly below the waterline. There, right across from the elevator was a small utility room with three industrial washing machines and matching dryers. I was surprised to find Jen Jeffries there all alone, clad in the ubiquitous white bathrobe.

  She jumped when she heard me coming and spun around to face me, lurching back and bumping into the nearest washing machine, which she’d been loading. Her eyes were huge and her face pale. Even from the doorway I could see she was shaking.

  “Whoa…” I said soothingly, holding up my hands, which unfortunately held a small pile of dirty clothes, “It’s all right, Jennifer. I’m sorry I startled you. I won’t hurt you…”

  She seemed to recover a little. She even tried to smile, “Oh… Mr. Jarvis… it’s all right…”

  I dropped my bundle and took a cautious step forward, my hands held out toward her, palms up, “I understand… and please call me Scott… are you okay?”

  “I…” She stammered, “I’m…”

  Suddenly she flew into my arms and clung to me, pressing up close and burying her face in my chest. She started to sob uncontrollably as she clutched me like a drowning victim might clutch a life ring.

  I was more than a little surprised. She had been displaying all the signs of post-traumatic stress. Her evident fear of men had been painfully clear from the start. Yet she suddenly needed the comfort of a man… a man other than her husband, perhaps.

  It wasn’t that uncommon, even for rape victims to seek comfort from a man they trusted. Perhaps a deeply embedded female trait or something akin to finding solace from a father figure. The size and strength of a man was comforting in spite of the fact that sometime before, it had been used against the victim.

  No matter what the reason, though, she seemed to need it. She just held me, and I held her back. She cried and shook for several long moments until the wave of pent up emotion seemed to blow itself out.

  She stepped back a little, still touching me and sniffled and even smiled, “Oh… I’m so sorry… I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s quite all right,” I said softly. “I’m glad to have helped, if I did.”

  She nodded and even chuckled slightly, “I needed that.”

  “If you need to talk…” I offered. “I’m willing to listen. I can also recommend Lisa and Missy. They’re great listeners and maybe you’d feel more comfortable talking to other women…”

  “I might, thank you… it’s kind of ironic, after what they did… that I’d run into a man’s arms,” Jen said with a sniffle. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and smiled. “Oh, here, put your stuff in. I was just going to do a load.”

  “Thanks,” I said and smiled at her. “The girls sent me packing. Said I smelled like a goat.”

  Jen actually laughed out loud at that. It was nice to see, “I think we all did. Maybe that’s it… you smell so nice. Those men… they stank…”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Two of them…” Jen began softly. “Two of them took turns… they… took me twice�
�� and whenever I look at Gus… and maybe smelled him, since none of us could clean up…”

  “You don’t have to talk about it,” I soothed.

  She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, “I think I do.”

  “Why not talk to Gus?” I suggested. “He’s all showered now. He seems like a good man.”

  She shivered, “He doesn’t know… if he found out…”

  “Jen,’ I said softly, touching her shoulder lightly. I was glad she didn’t flinch away. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this… but he knows. He knew right away. He didn’t want to let on so you wouldn’t feel worse. But he’s your husband and he loves you.”

  Tears began to flow down her cheeks again, “Oh God… what he must think. He’ll never touch me—“

  “Nonsense, love,” Came Gus’ voice from the doorway. He stepped in and came to stand at my side.

  Jen looked up at him nervously, still holding onto me. I gently steered her toward him, “Sorry kids, but you’ve got to deal with this sometime. She’s ready to start healing, Gus. And he’s ready to support you, Jen. Don’t’ be afraid.”

  “That’s right,” Gus soothed. “I don’t blame you, sweetheart. I love you and I’m here for you. We’ll get through it together.”

  I smiled, “Okay, I’ll let you kids talk. I’m needed upstairs.”

  “Thanks, mate…” Gus said to me, his eyes moist.

  “Yes, thank you, Scott,” Jen said with a small smile.

  “You’re very welcome.”

  I was surprised to find that the boat was stocked with lemon and real key Lime juice. Probably for desserts. I was able to mix up a big pitcher of sour mix and with the help of some good tequila and Grand Marnier, we all enjoyed a delicious taco dinner and some strong and much needed drinks. I was asked about the recipe but insisted that it was a family secret.

  Throughout the evening… or morning, it was nearly three when the party broke up… Julie kept flirting and making it obvious that she wanted more intimate company. I managed to avoid anything awkward and finally said that I was bushed and was headed below to my rack.

  “Should we stand watches?” Missy asked.