The Blue Tango Salvage: Book 2 in the Recovery and Marine Salvage, Inc. Series

by Chris Poindexter

  Q blushed. For a second he looked like a trapped animal.

  “Is he blushing?” she laughed.

  “I believe he is,” I agreed.

  “Am not,” Q protested, but the denial did nothing but prompt another burst of laughter from Flower and I.

  Flower’s phone beeped. “Oh, Teddy’s on his way! I’m going to fix him a plate and head on home. I’ll call you after while. He still wants to see you tonight.”

  We finished up our dinner and stopped to meet Jesse’s very pregnant wife on the way out.

  “I wasn’t blushing,” Q insisted when we got outside. He wasn’t comfortable on the topic of women and hid that discomfort with defensiveness.

  “I’m a doctor and you were blushing,” I told him firmly. “But it’s okay, Miss Charlotte was damn fine.”

  “That she was,” he agreed backing the golf cart out and wheeling back around on the road, “but I still wasn’t blushing.”

  Chapter 11

  We were back long enough for another beer when Flower called and said we should come on over. It was a short golf cart ride and their house was easy to find. It was the only one at the end of a private road with Flower’s white Mercedes SUV with the customized spare tire carrier with a cartoon flower painted on it. Next to that was a giant white Toyota truck. We parked next to the other golf cart.

  Teddy never locked his door so we just stepped into the foyer and said hello.

  “Hey, look what the cat dragged in!” Teddy bellowed from the room that doubled as his office. “Go on and grab a beer. I just have to finish up this phone call.”

  “Why does everyone say that?” Q asked.

  “Just a southern colloquialism,” I reminded him.

  “Makes me feel like a dead squirrel,” Q lamented.

  I had to think about that one for a second. “I don’t think you’re supposed to take it personally,” I pointed out, opening the big double door steel refrigerator in the kitchen and extracting a couple beers.

  “Still weird.”

  “Yeah.”

  While Teddy’s house wasn’t much to look at on the outside, it sure had it on the inside. Off white leather furniture dominated the living room, arranged in kind of an L-shape with a round coffee table that had been carved out of a single giant piece of oak. A big screen TV took up virtually the entire wall opposite the couches. I guessed it was one of the 102 inch models, but it could have been bigger. Next to that was a small fireplace, which would get used maybe a half-dozen times during a Florida winter. In the opposite corner was a pinball machine, Flower’s equivalent to video games during her rare down moments.

  “Sorry about that,” Teddy said as he puffed into the room like a vintage steam engine. “Dang it’s good to see you.”

  Q and I each got a bone-crushing man hug and Teddy grabbed himself a beer from the fridge, waving us to sit down.

  If Teddy Bear was his nickname it was also a passingly good description of the man. Teddy was huge, taller than Q and twice as big around. He had dark hair and a dark, full beard now flecked with a little gray. Like a real bear Teddy looked slow but was surprisingly fast, strong and nimble on his feet. He didn’t have hands, he had giant paws that swallowed up all but the neck of his beer bottle. He was wearing jeans and a bizarrely out of place Hawaiian shirt over a blue tank top and boots.

  “Miss Flower said you boys had a spot of trouble in Miami,” he grinned. Just then the lady herself joined us, barefoot in silk pajamas and a wrap carrying a glass of wine.

  “This is a special occasion,” Teddy beamed. “Flower doesn’t see anyone after she gets in her jammies.”

  “Ugh,” she agreed. “Once I’m in my jammies I am done for the day. But I wanted to hear this.”

  “So? What did you boys get yourself into?” Teddy smiled.

  “We might be wanted for questioning in connection with a murder...or two,” I added sheepishly.

  “Is it one or two?” Teddy asked, his eyes narrowing to a squint.

  “Maybe three,” I admitted. “Four tops.”

  Teddy and Flower exchanged a look. “How long were you there?” he asked.

  “Counting this morning...about 24 hours,” I admitted.

  “Ha!” Teddy grunted. “Good thing you kept it low key, you could have really stirred some shit up.”

  “Ballistics will clear us, but it’ll take them some time to sort it out.”

  “Working a job down there?”

  “Salvage operation and a missing person.”

  “Somebody salvaged something that went missing it sounds like,” Teddy guessed, “and they went missing with it. And I take it the trouble sprouted from whoever took it.”

  Behind the big, dumb redneck exterior was a keen and analytical mind. Teddy was always watching, listening, and analyzing, hiding it all behind that aw-shucks good nature and hideously ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. Anyone looking closer would notice that his hands weren’t just big but scarred and his arms covered in faded tattoos from the days Teddy’s only vehicle was a Harley Davidson motorcycle. A telltale limp gave away that not all the rides were smooth.

  “Pretty much sums it up,” I agreed. It always saved a lot of time talking to intelligent people.

  “I can ask Poncho to check on the sly whether there are any bulletins out on y’all, but there hasn’t been anyone snooping around today. I would have heard.”

  Poncho Channing, whose real name was Paul, was the local sheriff and he and Teddy had grown up together. He got the nickname “Poncho” because his mom never bought him a real coat until he got to high school, instead putting him in a sweater covered with a poncho when it rained. Most of the locals didn’t even know what his real first name was anymore.

  “It could look bad if we get caught here,” I protested.

  “Pffft,” Teddy dismissed. “Ain’t nobody gonna find you out here and the boys put your car through the shredder this afternoon.”

  “That’s the special treatment,” Flower clarified.

  “Well, at least we didn’t have to wash it,” I chuckled.

  “I didn’t know how serious it was or who might be looking for you,” he apologized.

  “It’s fine, Teddy. I really appreciate you letting us hang out here.”

  “How long you here for?”

  “At least three days.”

  “You did that A1A thing, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “Probably for the best,” he agreed. “People who stick around end up getting caught. Besides, it ain’t no problem for us; you can slot up here as long as you like,” he grinned. “Hang around long enough we’ll even put you to work.”

  “Mr. Fatman has himself a girlfriend,’ Flower teased. “Mr. Q,” she went on, “has a complication.”

  Teddy chuckled. “About damn time,” he grinned. “You like her?”

  “I do,” I said, surprising myself with the clarity of the answer. “I do like her.”

  “She on the run, too?” he asked, turning serious.

  I nodded.

  “Well, don’t you worry,” Flower advised. “If she’s someone you like then she’s a lady who can take care of herself. I just don’t see you with the helpless type.”

  “She’s pretty good,” Q spoke for the first time.

  “That’s quite the compliment,” Flower agreed. “Baby,” she said, turning to Teddy, “these boys look like they could use a little unwind time.”

  “Oh,” he caught on. “You gentleman like to sample some of our latest and greatest?”

  Q and I thought that would be a fine idea and Flower disappeared into the back. Teddy went to get us fresh beers and was trailed back in by Flower carrying a small box and a Volcano vaporizer.

  “Ever used one of these before?” she asked us. I had but Q didn’t know what it was.

  “This here is a vaporizer and it heats the product up just enough to create a vapor,” she explained. “You should be careful the first couple times,” she advised.

  Flower added a
small amount of weed to the vaporizer cup and attached a small bag to the tube coming out.

  “We used to have a hose,” Flower explained, “but you can walk around with your own little bag like a drink.” She filled four bags with light blue vapor, folded over the end to seal it and passed them around.

  “We had to keep a bit of this batch for our personal use,” Teddy explained with a grin. We all unfolded the straw and took a hit.

  “Holy shit,” I coughed, getting an almost instantaneous buzz.

  “Whoa, head rush,” Q grimaced, taking too big of a hit.

  We all laughed at that.

  “I told you,” Flower giggled. “Small hits. That vapor will kick your butt.”

  “That’s the shit there,” Teddy said appreciatively, falling back on the comfortable couch. It had been a long day for all of us. “So what do you want to do the next couple days?”

  “I want to shoot a hog,” Q said, finally mellowing.

  “Oh, that’s perfect,” Flower chimed in. “We need a couple for the barbecue tomorrow.”

  “Well, I got some business in the morning, but I can send you two out with Jesse and knock down a couple hogs out in the orchard. Then we can meet up for lunch.”

  Wild hogs rooted around the orange trees and the meat took on a citrus taste. To enhance the taste Teddy used a wet mop of orange juice and apple cider during cooking. It was the best barbecue I’d ever tasted.

  “Sweetheart, would you excuse us a minute?” Teddy said to Flower.

  “Man business,” she caught on, unfolding herself from the couch and gathering up the vaporizer. “I’ll see you gentlemen in the morning.”

  We said our goodnights to Flower and turned back to business.

  “Truth is you turning up is sort of fortuitous,” Teddy said easily. “I was actually thinking about calling you anyway.”

  “What’s up Teddy?”

  “I could use your help with something, but I didn’t want you to think...you know, that it’s connected to me helping you.”

  “I wouldn’t ever think that,” I said automatically. “Whatever you need, Teddy. If we can help you know we’ll do it if we can.”

  He nodded. “Come on, let’s take a ride.”

  We went out to the golf cart and Teddy drove through the park, streetlights spaced evenly along the twisting road. We crossed over to the single side and made our way to the building next to the big pool which was their auto shop.

  The peculiar thing about this shop was it was manned 24 hours a day and the night shift were mechanics with a definite pipefitter quality about them. We were met at the door by a man who looked like he could tear cars apart with his bare hands.

  “Mr. T,” he greeted Teddy warmly, regarding us with a somewhat less friendly look.

  “Bobby, these are some friends of mine: Mr. Fatman and Mr. Q. They’re going to be visiting with us a couple days.”

  His demeanor changed immediately at the word “friend” from his boss’ lips. “Howdy!” he grinned, showing off a gold-capped tooth. “Come on in!”

  “We’re going to go downstairs,” Teddy said evasively.

  “Sure thing, boss.” Bobby moved over to an electrical cabinet and pulled a wad of keys he had hanging on one of those retractor things and unlocked the cabinet. Inside was a small panel with a flat panel display with the menacing warning SYSTEM ARMED in big red letters. Bobby entered a code and the screen turned green. “Good to go.”

  “Come on,” Teddy beckoned and we fell in behind him.

  I recognized that panel because we used to have one just like it. It wasn’t an alarm panel; it was the same type of panel used to run mine fields. My guess was the entire building was wired so that if anyone tried to storm their way in, the whole place would blow. Had I not been almost completely blotto that would have bothered me. As it was it was just fine.

  We walked past auto service bays, a couple with people as large and fearsome looking as Bobby. It wasn’t hard to spot the “tool” cabinets mounted in the wall that almost certainly were stocking the kind of tools that chambered 5.56mm rounds. We came upon an empty repair bay and Teddy started down the pit steps.

  “Watch the sides, they’re kinda greasy,” he noted. He opened a small panel in the side wall and put his hand on a biometric scanner. There was a quiet THUNK and a door popped up from the floor. “This way.”

  We followed him down the narrow stairs that took a sharp right hand turn then left. I’d seen that arrangement before, too. Those were baffled stairs so if the building above blew, it would diffuse the shock wave. The door dropped back into place above us.

  We got to the bottom of the steps and found ourselves in a dark, narrow concrete room. “This is what I need your help with,” Teddy informed us and turned on the lights.

  “Goddamn, Teddy,” I said with a touch of admiration.

  In front of us was a bale of money about four feet high, five feet wide and about eight feet long. The bills had all been neatly packed, bundled, wrapped and stacked on pallets.

  “How much is there?” Q asked.

  “Somewhere around $80 million,” Teddy sighed. “Goddamn economy has been kicking our ass. The businesses have been making so goddamn much money the accountants said we can’t show any more on the books or it’ll look suspicious. So we just been piling it up in here. Anyway, I’ll cut you in for a deuce if you can help me find somewhere to stash it.”

  “We can help you move it, Teddy. There’s no problem there but we can’t take your money.” I explained that we’d been having our own problems with a red hot economy and were plagued with the same excess in cash flow. Teddy discovered, as we had, that the problem with hiring quality people and paying them a healthy salary is that they actually care about the business and do good work. Several of our businesses were making so much money they were useless as fronts.

  “You gonna bury it like you used to?” he asked, referring to our former practice of burying stacks of cash in watertight containers in ocean trenches at depths that only Ziggy could operate.

  “Nah, we don’t do that anymore, Ted,” I informed him. “We bought a bank.”

  “A bank?”

  “Yeah, in the islands. It’s awesome. They just filter the cash into a bunch of bogus client accounts a little bit at a time.”

  “Shit,” Teddy swore. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Doesn’t work the same here in the states,” I rued. “Even there they have to be careful. They time the account deposits with cruise ship visits so it looks like tourist money. We cut the bank manager in for a nickel and a nickel for the employees and auditors.”

  “I shoulda guessed you would have figured out something like that,” he grinned. “I suppose I should mention that I got another pile just like that one.”

  I shook my head. “As soon as we get our shit sorted out with this Miami gig we’ll figure a way to get it offshore.”

  “The drilling platform,” Q guessed.

  “We got a drilling platform out in the gulf that’s pretty nice as a staging area. A big helicopter running out there doesn’t attract much attention. The CIA runs ops off of it once in a while, so nobody fucks with it.” Helicopters were one of those modern marvels that were indispensable in some situations.

  “Well, I’d sure appreciate it,” Teddy smiled. “Makes me nervous keeping this much around.”

  “I can see why,” I sympathized.

  We made our way back to the house and Teddy said he’d call Jesse about the hog hunt in the morning and we’d meet up for lunch. On the golf cart ride back to the house I felt a lot more relaxed.

  Q tensed up when we came around the corner. The lights were on in his house.

  “I didn’t leave those lights on,” he said tightly.

  “Relax,” I said, still mellow from the weed. “Nobody can get in here and bad guys don’t turn on all the lights.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  “How the hell do I know? Just walk in and say hello.
Call me when you figure it out,” I said over my shoulder, climbing the steps to my place.

  Q sat there for a moment before finally shrugging and heading over to his own place. I had just cracked a fresh beer when the house phone rang.

  Predictably it was Q. “That girl, Charlotte, is here. She said the shower is broke at her place.”

  I chuckled at what was, without a doubt, Flower’s work. “Go have fun, I’m going to go soak in the hot tub.”