Once clear of the channel, I heard Rusty’s engine drop to an idle and he shouted out, “You take the starboard side, I’ll take port!” I untied the two bow cleats and tossed the port line up onto the deck of the barge, as far forward as I could, then resecured the starboard line to the stern cleat on the left side of my skiff, with what I hoped was enough slack to put me close to the center of the barge. Then I idled around the starboard side. Rusty had tied off several large bumpers near the center of the barge and my stern line became taut just about where I wanted it. I noticed that Rusty had tossed the bowline back far enough and I reached up and grabbed it and had it secured to my bow cleat in just a few seconds. Looking across the deck of the barge, I saw that Rusty was also ready.
“Steering’s gonna be tricky,” he said. “More throttle control than wheel. Tides, with us, so that’ll give us a little more speed. Should be high tide up in the Content Keys about 1100. I figure we’ll probably get there about then. Once we clear the Seven Mile Bridge, we’ll keep her at 280 degrees and make for the southern tip of Little Pine, then turn northwest and run Big Spanish Channel, then across Cutoe Banks.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “Doesn’t look like it draws much more than the skiffs. Should be easy going, until we get to Cutoe Banks. Even at high tide, it’s only a couple feet deep there.”
“That’ll be more than enough,” he said. “With the backhoe centered it only draws sixteen inches. If we’re lucky, I think we can make four or five knots. That’ll put us crossing the flats just about the time the tide goes slack. I put four deep-cycle batteries on board to power the lights and hooked them to the backhoe’s battery so they’ll charge when the engine’s running. We can anchor it right at the mouth of your channel. I sure hope Jimmy’s as good at operatin’ a backhoe as he says. That barge ain’t got a motor, so the only way to maneuver it is with the bucket.”
“Never known him to exaggerate before,” I said. “Let’s rock and roll.” With that, we dropped both engines into forward and working together, turned the barge until it was headed nearly due west. Using hand signals, we synchronized our engines to 2000 rpm and before long, we were moving along at a good four knots. We had a good hour before we got to the main ship channel, under the Seven Mile Bridge, so Rusty tied a lanyard to his wheel and crossed over the barge, carrying his big thermos. He stepped down lightly onto my casting deck, which always surprised me, as big as he is. He sat down next to me, leaning against one of the bumpers and topped off my mug again.
“Gonna be a nice day,” he said. “I brought some sandwiches Julie made us. But I also brought my rod and tackle box. Thought we might troll for snapper and cook that up, instead.”
“Good idea. Brought mine too.”
“You and Alex seem to have stepped over that line, brother. Hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah, that line’s astern. We’re still taking it slow, just seeing what happens,” I said. Rusty and I have been close friends for over twenty-five years. Between us, nothing was out of bounds or not the others business. Truth is, I thought of the man as my brother and so did he. “Turns out, we’d both been thinking of crossing that line the whole time she was here before.”
“All I’m saying, bro,” he said, “Is you don’t have exactly the best track record with the women. But I think with her it’d stick. She ain’t no yuppy type. Good solid woman there. ”
“Yeah, I mentioned that to her. Know what she said?”
“What?”
“Both my exes were weak.”
He laughed at that. “Yeah, well there’s some truth to that, for certain. Why you married the second one, I can’t even fathom. But Alex, she ain’t weak. She’s about the toughest woman I’ve ever known. But that could bring problems all its own, man.”
We rode on for several minutes, looking out over the water to the bridge. The Seven Mile Bridge is quite a feat of architecture and really beautiful in its own way. Henry Flagler had first built the railroad bridges from island to island all the way to Key West in the early 1900’s, but much of it was destroyed by the Labor Day hurricane of 1935 that killed thousands of people on the Keys. The original bridge only goes two miles now to Pigeon Key, which is kind of a museum to how life was for the workers building the bridges and rail lines a century ago. The new Seven Mile Bridge, along with many of the 42 bridges connecting Miami to Key West, were completed in the early eighties replacing the ones built in 1938. It has a high arch over Moser Channel, the main shipping channel, that’s 135 feet across and soars an impressive 65 feet above the water. We could cross under it, between any of the spans, but the current flows fastest in Moser Channel so our plan was to take advantage of that extra push. As it was now, the slight current across the flats east of the channel was slowly pushing us closer to the bridge. So, I bumped the throttle up slightly and about a minute later the barge responded, turning us slightly away from the bridge. I dropped the throttle down to 2000 rpm again.
Rusty broke the silence and asked, “She gonna move in with you, up there at the stilt house?”
I thought about it for a minute. I had actually built the place with her in mind. Not consciously, I don’t think, but in the back of my mind, as I didn’t even know if she’d come back. Finally, I answered, “We haven’t really talked about it. She’s only been back for five days. But, if she wants to, I think I could live with that.” To change the subject I asked, “What’s going on between Deuce and Julie?”
“I don’t think they’ve slept together, if that’s what ya mean. Deuce doesn’t strike me as the kinda guy that would sleep with a man’s daughter under his own roof. I do think there’s a spark there, though.” Then he laughed heartily and said, “About damn time.”
“I’m gonna ask him to ride with me to Miami tomorrow,” I said, “After we scatter Russ’s ashes on Conrad. Lester and his crew are expecting to see me show up there to drop off my charter. Alex said she’d drive up and be waiting to pick him up at the boat ramp.”
“A charter of one? You think they’ll buy that, and then follow you back down here? Maybe I should come along, you know, to sell the ruse a little better.”
“Can you cut loose like that, the day before your ‘grand reopening’?” I asked.
“Cut loose?” he laughed. “Damn, bro, Julie runs things around the Anchor now. Pretty much has since she finished high school. She’ll be glad to get me outa her hair. Tell me about the boat they’re on.”
“Alex said it’s an older thirty-two foot Carver aft cabin. Probably has twin Mercruisers for power. They might be able to squeeze twenty-five knots out of her. Staying ahead of them won’t be a problem.”
“Okay, so you drop me and Deuce off at the ramp, we ride back with Alex and you play cat and mouse and get them back down here, right?”
“Yeah, that Carver probably has enough range to make Marathon, but not much further. I was thinking I’d cruise along and let them follow, until I make Alligator Reef. Then open the Revenge to full speed and be way out of sight, when I make it back to the Anchor. If I wear a hat with a flap and sunglasses and play it right up in Miami, they won’t get a good enough look at me to recognize me as the guy that sent them up there. They’ll naturally go to Dockside for fuel and I’ll let Aaron know that just about everyone will be at your party. They’ll probably need to rent a car, ’cause they’ll be stuck walking from there. At the party, they’ll recognize me as the guy that told them the Revenge had gone up to Miami and ask where Jesse is.”
“How you gonna get that Lester guy alone?”
“Haven’t quite worked that out yet,” I replied. “If they rent a car and split up, that’ll be two on the boat and two on land. I have the advantage of knowing what three of them look like and they don’t know what I look like, except as the guy that told them I’d gone to Miami.”
We’d reached the turn into Moser Channel and no large ships were coming from either direction. About a hundred yards from the edge of the channel, I dropped the engine to idle s
peed, but the barge didn’t seem to be responding. So, I kicked the Maverick into reverse and brought the engine up to 1200 rpm and that did the trick. The big barge turned into the channel and I kicked the engine into forward and brought it back up to 2000 rpm. With the current running at about five knots in the channel, we crossed under the bridge pretty quickly. Directly under the bridge, the dog started barking over the side of the skiff.
“Quick,” I said, “grab a rod and put a line out.”
“What kind of lure?” he asked.
I looked at the dog and he was looking straight down into the channel. “Put that Rapala deep running shad on the leader. Hurry!”
While putting the lure on the swivel, he asked, “What the hell is that dog yapping at?”
“Get that lure in the water and you’ll see,” I replied.
Rusty threw the line out and a few minutes later reeled in a nice red snapper, which he put in the live well.
“Don’t tell me that dog saw that snapper,” he said.
“That’s the third time I’ve seen him do it. Crazy, huh?”
“I’d say so. Never heard of a fish pointer. Well that’s lunch,” he said. “Time for a snack.” He opened the cooler, got a sandwich out, and offered it to me. I declined and he wolfed it down in just a few bites, tossing the last bite up on the casting deck to the dog.
The dog looked at it, and then looked expectantly at me. “Go ahead,” I said and he gobbled it down. Once we were about a mile past the bridge, Rusty had to cross over to his skiff and do the same trick that got us into the channel, to once more get us out. After he’d gotten the barge set on the right course, slightly north of west, he crossed back over again and joined me.
“Think Deuce will mind if I go along to spread Russ’s ashes?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think he’ll have a problem with that,” I replied.
“Been thinking on how to separate Lester from the others,” he said. “Like you said, they’ll likely rent a car and split up once they make Dockside. When they split up, ya got two scenarios. First, they split into twos. More likely, since they’re landlubbers they’ll leave one guy to watch the boat, trusting that people can only be found on land. That’ll put three in a rental car. A bit harder to separate, but if we’re lucky, Lester’ll be the one on the boat.”
“Don’t tell me you started counting on luck, man,” I said.
He laughed hard at that one. “No, but like the man said, ‘Fortune favors the prepared mind’. It could happen.”
“Yeah, it could,” I said. “And I do favor being prepared.”
Then at the same time we both said, “The Seven P’s,” and started laughing.
“Yeah,” Rusty finally said. “Sergeant Livingston was a good teacher.”
I said, “Deuce told me the only things of value that we should have found at the apartment were likely four cob coins, two escudo. One on a gold chain that Russ usually wore and a gold cross with three emeralds. Alex and I didn’t find any of them. If Lester did kill Russ and break into his apartment, he’s got those, along with Russ’s journal.”
“I know the doubloon necklace Russ had. I got one exactly like it,” Rusty said. “Never wear it anymore, too touristy. What if I was to loan it to Aaron. Think Lester would take an interest? Maybe hang back with the boat, while the others go off to get a car so he could maybe talk to Aaron about it?”
“Good idea,” I said. “The thing that’s been nagging at me, though, is when Lester and the bald guy were in Aaron’s office, it seemed like the bald guy was the boss, not Lester.”
“If that’s the case, this Lester guy would be sure to take an interest in my doubloon and hang back, if he really was the one who stole Russ’s.”
I gave it some more thought. Why were these guys after me anyway? How dangerous were they? I damn sure didn’t like Baldy’s looks. He just had an evil look about him. And I was pretty sure that Lester had something to do with Russ’s death. So they were dangerous enough.
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s get Aaron to wear that doubloon. I’m certain they’ll come directly to Dockside for fuel. And to see if I’m there, once I run off from them. If Aaron’s wearing a doubloon necklace exactly like the one he stole from Russ, he’s bound to be interested. And he’ll suggest that he be the one to stay back with the boat. Something else we can do is anchor up in the intracoastal and watch their boat at the docks. Likely, they’re watching incoming boats in shifts. If we wait to come in when Lester finishes his watch, he’ll be tired. After sitting in the sun for several hours, then chasing me for three or four more hours, he’ll be really tired.”
“I like it when the enemy’s really tired,” Rusty said, grinning. “People make mistakes when they’re really tired. So, you’re gonna want to leave before daylight, to be able to anchor in the intracoastal early in the day. It’s gonna take you a good three hours to get there and you’re gonna need to stop for fuel to be able to get back here nonstop running wide open. You could put in at Key Biscayne Yacht Club and top off. That’ll give you just enough fuel to get to Rickenbacker and back here, without stopping. Just how fast is the Revenge?”
“She’ll make about forty-five knots, in calm seas.”
“Really?” he said. “I never thought she was that fast.”
We continued bouncing ideas off each other’s heads the rest of the morning, as we slowly motored up to my house. As predicted, we got there just before noon and made it across the flats with no problems. The barge had legs at each corner that raised and lowered with a hand crank system of gears, so that it could be positioned and held in place. We positioned it on the flats, to the left of the channel to my house and dropped the legs to the bottom. Since it was high tide, we only needed to crank them a few inches to make the barge secure and it wouldn’t drift off, as the tide rose and fell, before we get back. We idled our skiffs up under the house and went up for lunch. As Rusty was cleaning the fish, I threw a can of beans in a pot and put them on a low simmer. When I went back outside, I could hear the sound of an outboard approaching. I reached back inside, grabbed my binoculars off the hook by the door and trained them to the south.
I immediately recognized the skiff flying over the water as a Maverick Mirage, like my own. It had a red upper hull, white below the waterline and a poling platform over the engine. Man that boat was moving fast. As I focused on the driver, the familiar light blue, long-sleeved denim shirt and long billed fishing cap stood out only slightly more than the blonde hair flying behind and the excellent form that the wind created in the shirt. Alex was back on the water in her own boat.
I hustled down to the dock and Rusty asked, “Who’s that boat coming I heard?”
“It’s Alex in her new Maverick,” I replied.
The sound of the outboard slowed as she dropped off plane to come up the channel to the house. After a minute, she appeared, coming through the overhanging mangroves.
“Dayum!” Rusty said. “Now that’s a fine water craft.”
Alex was beaming, as she tossed Rusty a line and he tied her off to the dock.
“You like?” she asked.
I walked along the dock and admired the work that Skeeter had done. He’d gone above and beyond to please Alex, it seemed.
“Is that for real?” I asked, nodding toward the big Mercury outboard with a big ‘300’ on the side.
“Sure is,” she said grinning. “A brand new 2006, aluminum block, three-hundred horsepower, four stroke, Merc. Weighs only one hundred pounds more than your Yamaha.”
“Skeeter did a fine job,” I said. “That’s a damn beautiful boat. I’m real happy for you.”
“It sure is, Alex,” Rusty said. “Skeeter did a great job. Hope he didn’t charge you too much.”
“I think I got a pretty good deal, guys. Cost me less than a brand new boat and motor and looks brand new. The only thing original is the hull and he reglassed it. Even used Kevlar along the keel and chines.”
“Congratulations,” I said. “I k
now you’re happy to be back on the water. We were about to eat. Come one up.”
“Hang on,” she said, then reached in the icebox and pulled out a really nice sized red snapper.
“Gimme that,” Rusty said. “Y’all go on up. I’ll be just a minute.”
Alex handed the fish to Rusty and said, “Caught him under the Seven Mile Bridge.”
Rusty said, “Yeah? That’s where that dog pointed out this snapper.” Then he turned back to the cleaning board and started in cleaning the fish. Alex and I headed up the steps to the house. I wanted to go over all the plans that Rusty and I had put together while running the barge up here. Inside two minutes, Rusty joined us and while I went over everything with Alex, he started cooking the fish filets. After I’d finished, we sat outside and had lunch with a few cold Red Stripes. The dog even got his own snapper filet.
“Rusty,” Alex said, “Julie said to let you know that she’s got everything set for Sunday, except for a couple of things she has to wait for Sunday morning to do. She also said she’d be going with me down to Miami, to pick you and Deuce up.”
“Wait a minute,” Rusty said. “Me and Jesse only decided I was going while on the way up here. How’d Julie know?”
“My bet would be Alex told her,” I said.
“And you’d be right, Captain Psychic,” she said.
“So how’d you know?” Rusty asked.
“We men are as predictable as fish to her,” I answered.
“So you are,” she said. “I’m guessing you’ll want to leave as soon as Deuce arrives?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Guess I better call him and get him up to speed.” I stood up and walked down to the dock to get my phone, then looked back at the call history and found Deuce’s number and dialed him.
“Hey Jesse,” Deuce said, when the connection was made. “I was just about to call you. I’m going to be arriving there earlier than I originally figured. Just getting on the plane now. Should be there in three hours.”
“That change in schedule wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain bar wench, would it?”
Fallen Palm (Jesse McDermitt Series) Page 14