My guests knew about boats, that I was sure of. You don’t make O-4 and E-6 in the SEALS without having a whole lot of time on the water in all kinds of crafts. I could see by their expressions that they were impressed with the Revenge. Tony said with a huge grin, “This is some boat, man! I thought for sure this’d be a pounder.”
“Pounder?” I asked.
“Most of the boats we ride in,” Art replied, “ride like a Sherman tank. This is like riding in a Bentley.” As if on cue, a large wave hit the starboard bow, as I started the turn around Sister Rock island. All it did, was nudge the bow slightly to port and we rolled gently into the trough, coming back on course.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Tony yelled.
As we rounded Sister Rock, I brought the Revenge around to the left and started the run toward the channel leading to Rusty’s canal. It was marked with only two markers. The first one, a green marker, was in about twenty feet of water on the port side of the channel. The other one, a red one, was in only five feet of water on the starboard side, nearly on shore. I lined the Revenge up with the canal between the two markers and nudged the throttles a bit more to 1400 rpm, as the swells were rolling behind us now. I didn’t want to wallow in the trough, nor be passed up by the fast moving swells. We were now running a lot faster than I usually like to go through a channel, making nearly thirty knots. We flew past the first marker and a few seconds later we were less than a hundred yards from the mouth of the canal. The swells were smaller now and moving slower, so I slowly dropped the engines down to 1200 rpm and the stern rose as we slowed. Passing the last marker, there was only a slight chop, so I dropped the throttles down to idle speed and we nosed into the canal just as the Revenge came down off plane and became a displacement hull again.
“You’d have made a half decent Sailor there, Jarhead,” Deuce said. Interservice rivalry was common, especially between Marines and Sailors.
“Sorry, Squid, I only have two arms,” I replied laughing. But coming from a man like Deuce, I took it as a great compliment.
As we idled down the long canal Jimmy, Art, and Tony went down to the cockpit. “Jimmy, go on up to the bow and I’ll put you off on the port side as I turn her around. I can see Rusty and Rufus ahead on the starboard shore. They’ll handle the port lines once I spin her around and you can handle the starboard ones.” Jimmy scrambled along the rail on the port side and made his way across the large foredeck to the pulpit, where he unhooked the cable across the front of the pulpit and stood ready.
When we reached the center of the turning basin, I reversed the port engine and nudged it’s throttle just above idle and spun the wheel to the left. The Revenge started turning sideways, while still drifting toward the barge at the end of the canal. Then I shifted the port engine back to forward and goosed the starboard throttle. The Revenge surged slightly forward, then I brought the throttles to reverse idle. She stopped just a couple of feet from the western dock and started backing, just as Jimmy took a long stride and stepped onto the western dock, with the starboard bow line in his hand. I swung the wheel all the way to starboard and goosed the port engine throttle a bit, then brought them both to forward while swinging the wheel back to port. The Revenge continued it’s spin to the left and Jimmy tied off the bow line to the first bollard as she came to a dead stop. Tony and Art threw lines to Rusty and Rufus, waiting on the eastern dock, who made them fast on the furthest two bollards. I brought both engines to neutral and idled them for a minute before shutting down. We were tied up at a forty five degree angle to the canal, with the stern only a few feet from the barge.
“I take that back, Captain.” Deuce said. “You’d have made a damn fine Sailor.”
“Thanks, Deuce,” I replied. Tony and Art were already throwing off more lines to the three men on shore and within minutes they had six heavy lines tied fore and aft, to both sides of the turning basin. Alex was standing on the old barge next to an aluminum gangplank that was connected to the barge with a large hinge pin. She lowered the other end to Art at the stern. I noticed that Art was kind enough to bungee a bumper to the underside of the gangplank, to protect my finish. “Those are some great Sailors you have there, too.”
9
One Week Earlier
Monday, October 17, 2005
“Hey Sonny, you got a sec?” Lester asked as he entered Sonny’s office. The old loan shark was at his desk in the back office of a junkyard he owned on the outskirts of West Palm Beach, just off US-1. He’d bought it ten years ago, mostly as a front for his other enterprises, but also because it had a dock on a canal that went straight to the water.
“Got nothing but time, kid. Did you ever find that deadbeat Joseph Whatshisname?”
“Had a line on him in Riviera Beach on Saturday,” Lester replied. “I waited around where he was supposed to show all afternoon and he never showed. I’ll find him, though. Look, I got this problem and I don’t know what to do about it and I was thinking maybe you could help me out,” Lester was looking at a picture of a naked girl on the calendar by the door. It was dated 1975, but she was still hot, he thought.
“Whatcha need, kid? An advance? I can probably give you a couple C notes,” Sonny said, as he opened a drawer in the old metal desk and pulled his wallet out.
“No Boss, nothing like that,” Lester said. “See, it’s like this. You know I took up scuba diving a few weeks ago. Well, I found something the other day and it’s pretty valuable. But, I don’t wanna go to a fence I don’t know and was wondering if you might know someone that could maybe handle it for me.”
“Hmm, yeah I know some people,” Sonny said thoughtfully. “Been down here for over forty years. Not too many people I don’t know in this town.” Found something valuable in the water, huh, he thought. Some old broads broach, maybe?
“Thing is, Boss, well, this thing is maybe more valuable than anything I could ever find. I don’t wanna get took by anyone.” With that, Lester closed the office door and opened the green gym bag he was carrying and pulled out a towel. He set it on Sonny’s desk with a heavy thud and unrolled it. “It’s a solid gold bar, Boss.”
Sonny couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sure looked like gold and he reached to pick it up, but misjudged it’s weight and it dropped back onto the towel. Using both hands he picked it up. Damn thing must weigh ten pounds, he thought. “Where the hell did you find this, kid? You didn’t knock over a Brinks truck did ya?”
“Found it in da ocean, Boss,” Lester replied. “Found a few other things, too.” With that, he unrolled the towel the rest of the way. There were four gold coins, one mounted and hung on a necklace and a gold cross, with three big green stones on it.
“Holy shit,” Sonny said. He recognized the gold doubloons, he’d seen a few of them before. Mostly in museums, but once he saw a guy wearing one on a chain around his neck, like the one that was mounted here. “You mean to tell me that you was swimming in the ocean and just found all this stuff.”
“Not exactly, Boss. Well, the bar, I found in the ocean, yeah. The other things turned up later. Any idea how I can get rid of them and how much they worth?”
Sonny thought for a minute, rolling the doubloons in his fingers. Then picked up the cross and looked closely at the stones. There was a setting for a fourth one, but it was missing. “Well, I’m pretty sure I can help ya fence it, but it’ll cost ya. You work for me, so I’m gonna take a big cut. That bar’s gotta weigh at least ten pounds, I’d guess it’s worth $200 thou, by itself. The coins are sometimes called doubloons. They’re two escudo cobs, worth maybe a thousand bucks each. But, this gold cross might be worth more than all the others combined if it wasn’t missing a stone and these are real emeralds. Saw one like it in a museum and they said it was worth a million bucks. With a stone missing, I’d guess maybe half that. But, ya gotta unnerstand, kid. My fence ain’t gonna pony up full price and the price will be melt value, so the cross might bring ten grand. Best guess is he’d do about fifty cents on the dollar
. So, you’re looking at about a hundred thousand, maybe a bit more. I’ll take thirty percent. That fair to you?”
Lester arched his brows, thinking. Math wasn’t exactly his strong suit, so Sonny added, “That’d be $70 thou to you and $30 thou to me. Give or take a few grand.”
“That’s more than two years pay for me, Boss. But, I’d like to keep the necklace, it’s cool looking. Sounds more than fair. How soon ya think ya can get the money?”
“Tell ya what I’ll do, kid. I was about to go downtown for lunch, anyway. Let me carry this to a guy I know. Once he verifies it’s the real stuff, I’ll give you your $70 thou outa my own pocket, when I get back. I’ll prolly have to wait a day or two to get the money from him. Why the hurry? You ain’t gonna cut out on me, are ya?”
“No way, Boss. I got it good here. I think I might wanna buy myself my own car. Not that I don’t like tooling around in your DeVille, but I think I’d kinda like something a little sportier. I also kinda found a Ford truck, but it’s old and pretty beat up.”
Sonny laughed and said, “Found a truck, huh? Look kid, ya need to just torch that, okay? Sportier car, yeah. But with a clean title. You’d look good with a red Mustang or something wrapped around ya. Look, I ain’t gonna pry about where this stuff come from. But, is there anything else you wanna tell me?”
Lester thought it over and said, “It’s like this boss. I also found this book, when I found the coins and the cross. The guy that owned it wrote down a lotta shit in it. I think he’s a treasure hunter. Lots of dates and numbers. I got no idea what they mean.”
“What kinda numbers?”
“Long ones,” Lester replied. “To long to be a phone number or anything. They all start with the same group of numbers, but some in the middle and end is different.”
“You say this guy’s a treasure hunter? They’re prolly GPS numbers he saved for places he found stuff.”
“Yeah! He had one of those GPS things,” Lester blurted out.
“So, you know this guy? Is he gonna know you got this stuff? Maybe come looking for it, or call the cops?”
“No, Boss, I seriously doubt he knows I got it and he ain’t gonna be callin’ the cops. I also got the GPS thing, too.”
“Anything else in this book, kid? Anything at all?” Sonny was thinking he really needed to look at the book.
“I got it right here, Boss,” Lester replied, pulling a small leather bound book out of his back pocket. He opened it to the first page. “The Dates go back to 1980. Only thing other than dates and numbers is this one name. See here, says ‘Jesse McDermitt’ and it’s repeated a few times further on.”
10
Sunday night, October 23, 2005
I climbed down from the bridge and walked across the gang plank after Deuce. “Power’s out, Jesse,” Rusty said. “I got the backup generator going, but it only gives enough juice for the house or the bar, not both. Got the bar powered up right now. Everything in the cooler’s gonna go bad when I switch it over to the house. You guys hungry?”
Art and Tony joined us on the barge and Tony said, “If you got any more of that ‘bacon fish’ or whatever it was, hell yeah.”
We all laughed and Alex asked, “You still pulling that hogfish joke on unwary tourists?”
“Only when I can find a gullible enough tourist,” I replied.
Jimmy called out from the end of the canal, as he was walking toward us, “Here comes rain, man.”
“Let’s get inside,” I said. “That squalls gonna be here in a few seconds.” We all ran to the Anchor and made it inside, just as the rain started pounding on the roof.
“Okay,” I said, “we need to come up with some kind of a plan. Let’s check the update on the storm on the TV first. Deuce, do you guys have a place to stay?”
“Yeah, we have two rooms at the Blue Water Resort, just down the road,” he replied.
I looked at Rusty, who shook his head. “Might be better to stay here, Deuce,” I said. “When the power goes out, it’s usually the whole island. Plus, if Wilma stays on track, the north side of the island will get it worse.”
“We have a guest room in the house,” Julie said, looking at Deuce. “We asked Alex to stay with us. Or we can just all stay here in the bar.”
“Jimmy and I will bunk in the boat,” I said. “It’s plenty safe way up here in the canal. Way better than Dockside. The crew cabin has three bunks. Anyone want dibs on the couch in the salon?”
“That huge forward berth, for just you?” Alex asked. “Kinda stingy there, ‘friend’. Here’s an idea. How about I bunk with you? The Commander here can take the guest room and Jimmy can bunk in the crew cabin with these nice Sailors and learn to cuss properly.”
That brought a huge laugh from everyone, but I was too busy looking at Alex. She coyly smiled at me and nodded, saying, “If that’s all right with you, Captain.”
“Well, um, yeah,” I stammered. Turning to the others, I said, “Okay, so that’s taken care of. What next? Rusty?”
Rusty was behind the bar and had turned on the TV. The Weather Channel was just coming out of a commercial and Rusty was setting beers on the bar, along with a bottle of ginseng tea for Jimmy. Though he smoked pot, he very rarely drank alcohol. Two local fishermen, Lefty and Diego, looked up at Rusty expectantly. “Drink up, people. Beer’s gonna get hot before long. On the house,” he said looking at the two fishermen. “Julie, you seen Rufus?”
“He was headed to his cabin a little while ago, want me to get him?” she replied.
“Yeah, let him know we got some fish to cook up,” he said. “And anything else he has in the ice box. Sorry, Tony, the hogfish is all gone. But, Rufus makes a mean blackened grouper.”
Julie looked over at Deuce and asked, “Will you come with me, it’s getting dark.”
Deuce dutifully put down his cold Red Stripe and followed her to the door. I looked at Rusty, who looked after them as they walked outside. He looked back at me and shrugged.
“Hey, turn that up, Rusty. They’re about to give the update,” I said. Everyone gathered at the bar, watching as the local weather guy came into focus, wearing a yellow slicker, being buffeted by the wind.
“This is Shomari Stone, in Marathon, with the update on Hurricane Wilma. As you can see the wind has really started to pick up. Wilma has been upgraded to a category three storm, a major hurricane, with winds clocked near the eye at 120 miles per hour. It has increased forward speed and as of eight o’clock Wilma was centered one hundred miles west southwest of Key West, heading northwest at twenty miles per hour. Hurricane warnings are now up for all of the Florida Keys and southwest Florida. A mandatory evacuation has now been ordered for all of the Lower Key and a tropical storm warning has been issued for the rest of the state. Right now, here in Marathon, we’re about 100 miles from Key West and the winds are coming out of the southwest at 30 miles per hour, with occasional gusts to 40. The rain’s been coming down in sheets, as the outer bands come over the island. If Wilma maintains her current path and speed, it should make landfall somewhere south of Fort Myers in the early morning hours. We expect conditions here in the Middle Keys to worsen throughout the night, but it looks like the Keys may dodge this one. However, we know from past experience that even a glancing blow can have devastating affects. We should expect winds here to reach tropical storm strength in the next couple of hours and may even reach hurricane force before this is all over.”
A cheer went up in the bar, as Julie and Deuce came back in through the back door, with old Rufus following behind. “Rufus, you feel like cooking?” Rusty asked. “Power’s out and I got the generator running, but when I switch it over to the house, everything’s gonna go bad.”
“Yes suh, cook it all up? I guh fiyuh up mi cookas.”
“Yeah, all of it. Gotta be more than ten pounds of grouper in that cooler, plus about a hundred jumbo shrimp,” Rusty said. Turning to his friends he asked, “Any special requests?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned back to Rufus and
added, “No? Good. Blackened grouper and shrimp it is, Rufus. If you find anything else in that cooler, cook it up now. It’s only gonna go bad if we don’t. ”
“Yeah mon sah, Mista Rusty,” Rufus replied. “Got some corn an stone crab claws inna dire too, mon. Might could be di lass good food wi get fah a coupla days.”
Coming out from behind the bar, Rusty walked up to me and said, “Jesse, my skiff’s still hooked to the pickup. Can ya help me unhook it and stake her down?”
“We’ll get it, Captain,” Art said. “Just show us where you want it.”
“Thanks, son,” Rusty said. “Follow me.” They headed out the front door of the bar and the wind caught and slammed the door shut, but it looked like it’d stopped raining for the moment.
I turned to Alex and said, “Are you sure about this?” I’d thought about taking it to the next level many nights, before she left. Many, many nights.
She looked me right in the eye and as if reading my mind said, “I’ve been thinking of you every day, since I had to leave. Thought about you quite a few nights, too. I know you wanted to take it slow last year. I thought that maybe you just weren’t interested. Are you?” Typical Alex, direct and to the point.
Fallen Palm (Jesse McDermitt Series) Page 6