Beside them is a sideshow picture of Barnum and Bailey's Wolf Boy, with the caption of "Brother Bo". He'll admit that these aren't pictures of his real family, but they're the best he can come up with from memory.
The pictures of Zoya and Stella were actually news photos taken on the red carpet. He printed them off from the Internet last night after the pizza party. Oz said hanging them was the least he could do. He'd "never met either of the ladies, but they seemed like nice folks, even though both were a bit troubled and one was terribly misguided."
Oz said he's considering having a couple of fangs put in when he got his new front teeth implanted that afternoon. That way he'd look more like his long lost brother and parents.
Yes, Oz is a very strange man, but he's a very good man, as well.
We'd finished breakfast, and Rabbit, Jada and Ol' Corky were cleaning off the bar in preparation of washing the dishes.
Smokey and I turned to each other and smiled. I took her hand and said, "Time for a little sailing?"
She nodded, and her grin widened.
When I slipped off the barstool and grabbed the picnic basket Smokey had prepared, my foot nudged Jazzy Brass. She awakened immediately and stood up.
"What about it, girl? You up for some sailing?"
She yawned and took a couple of steps toward the door. Looking back at us over the bandage still covering the knife wound in her side, she sighed.
"You don't want me to carry you in the two-wheeler I brought you in?"
She stepped slowly to the door and stared at the doorknob.
"She's as ready as I am," Smokey said as we approached her.
I glanced at my report writer sitting at a corner table, typing away on his laptop. He had ear buds in and was listening to an audio tape I'd given him when he arrived at the bar earlier this morning. I imagined he was finishing up his transcription of the latest monthly report to give to my parole officer, Tamara White Cloud. Good man — I'm not much of a writer, myself — and he's cheap, too.
Kessler gave me a smile and a nod, and I returned it as I opened the door for my ladies to exit.
Smokey and I took our time strolling down the pier, giving Jazzy consideration. The vet said she would be as good as new in a couple of weeks.
When we got to the Reckless Abandon, I took the picnic basket into the cabin, but then hesitated when I noticed a piece of paper on my bunk. I picked it up and found it was a note, folded backwards, that said: Now that all your other distractions are out of the way, let's have some fun. Maybe tonight's the night....
I thought my smile would crack my cheekbones. Yes!
Before I had a chance to turn it over and read the rest on the other side of the fold, Smokey called in, "You'd better come and look at this."
I slipped the note into my pocket, deciding there would be plenty of time to read the rest later. Besides, it could contain a surprise — and I like good surprises.
When I came out topside, I saw Smokey was gazing at the end of the pier, her hand above her eyes.
Coming toward us was a small motor boat with a brand new fifty-foot Hunter sailboat in tow — the Nauti-Gal II. It had to cost Ol' Corky a fortune — certainly much more than her insurance would have paid for the old Hunter. Of course, I knew that the Judge would have paid her a considerable amount for her work with me, as well.
I already had my much smaller boat rigged to sail. After we greeted the free-loading ferret, Nostradamus, who had just climbed out of his litter box on the forward end of the cockpit, we cast off lines. I adjusted the mainsail boom and took the tiller.
Finally, we were off on what I hoped would be a pleasurable, but not too adventurous day.
It turned out to be one of those glorious days. We drank wine and ate a picnic lunch on the boat, and then went swimming in a cove down the coast. Later in the afternoon, we sang Jimmy Buffet, Darius Rucker/Hootie and the Blowfish, and even some Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo'ole songs, accompanied by my guitar, while drinking margaritas. Smokey has a sweet voice. As for myself, I've been told I should go pro. I might even be able to eek out a living singing in bars, if I wanted to. But I don't want to — I'll remind you that, although I'm not yet forty, I am retired.
On the way back, we caught a great breeze and the sea was gentle. I heeled the boat with the apparent wind in our faces, Smokey in my arms and Jazzy at my side — little Nostradamus curled up next to her.
After a toast in the bay at sunset, we headed in, but I hoped this would not be the end of our evening together. Dolly and Rabbit were spending the night at Mrs. Perkins'. She had a boy Rabbit's age, and they loved to play video games together. Considering the note Smokey left on my bunk this morning, I was pretty sure tonight would be the night.
We tied up and secured the sails and rigging, then left Jazzy and Nosy curled up together at the end of my bunk in the cabin. After stepping off, we strolled arm and arm up the Atlantis pier toward Smokey's house, and I thought of how this had been the type of day I'd dreamed about having ever since I arrived here over a year ago.
As we walked by Ol' Corky's new boat, we noticed Corky's lost cat, Friendly, sitting on the cabin roof, and were somewhat relieved. No one had seen the cranky old thing since the original Nauti Gal had blown up.
We were slightly disappointed, however, to see a broken champagne bottle glistening in the pier lights, next to Ol' Corky's new boat on the port side.
"She's already christened it?" I asked.
Smokey pointed out the white cane at the Nauti-Gal II's hatchway. A slight but steady movement from the boat caused motion rings to spread away from it in the water, and a rhythmic tapping came from the flag-line clip striking the mast.
Friendly, the cat, jumped down from the cabin roof, as if irritated.
We were both puzzled, but only briefly.
With a closer look, the sign on the companionway door explained it all: If this Boat's a Rockin', Don't Ya Bother Knockin'!
We exchanged bewildered smirks and said in unison, "Ol' Corky and See-Saw?"
I wanted to tell Smokey that See-Saw had confided in me this morning that he was "going to get laid," today, but I didn't.
Moving along leisurely, we held hands to the end of the pier. There, I took Smokey in my arms, and we kissed under a light pole.
It was the sweetest kiss within memory.
Nothing could spoil this moment — except a flashback of the last woman I held in my arms; Zoya.
A question came to mind that I'd forgotten to ask. "So did the Coast Guard pull the cook from the Russian's boat out of the water?"
"I don't know," Smokey answered, somewhat amused at me asking such a question at a time like this. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondered. I wasn't really sure if he was one of the bad guys or was actually just a guy they'd hired to cook — and maybe he thought we were the bad guys."
She chuckled.
"What about the bodies?" I asked, mostly thinking of Zoya.
"I don't know that, either."
"Yeah, the boat must have sunk fast."
"It didn't really," Smokey said. "But we got you and climbed into that raft Rabbit found. It wasn't but fifteen seconds later that Beautiful showed up in the helicopter. He towed us to shore, then loaded you up and took you to the hospital. Let me tell you: that was a very cold ride in a small raft with six people."
"Why didn't you just get in with the Coasties?"
"Never saw them."
"You must have." I was confused. "Their boat couldn't have been a hundred yards out when I dove for that hand grenade."
"We did see a boat, but they stopped as soon as Beautiful arrived in the helicopter. And the Russian's boat hadn't sunk yet when we left. We saw an explosion after we got back to shore — figured that was the end of it."
It wasn't the Coast Guard coming to the rescue that night? The mystery boat didn't come to help — at least not to help us? They had to have been involved with the Russians.
I cringed. "Karl was dead when you left,
wasn't he?"
"Well, I'm sure he died later," she said. "He was trying to get up when we left in the raft. But he was having a hard time — especially because of the arm chewing your sweet Jazzy Brass gave him. She really worked him over at the marina until that bastard got her with his knife. Ironic that was how he got it too. With his knife wound, all the blood; we figured he must have died soon after that."
I hadn't heard that about my Jazzy. I was proud of her: protecting the girls from harm without regard for her own safety.
But what about Karl — where was he now? Was he at the bottom of the ocean? Or was he still out there? My mind raced at the possibilities.
Suddenly, the light above popped and darkened; the showering glass missing us by a few feet.
Initially startled, my mind raced back to the terror that had been only a week ago. We then laughed, feeling silly to have thought it could've been a gunshot.
"Don't worry," I said. "Karl's not a sniper."
"I'm not. Those bulbs do that when they burn out. It scares the hell out of me every time."
When I looked closer, I noticed a splintered hole in the wooden light pole directly behind the shattered bulb.
I gazed out at the dark harbor. If it had been a gunshot, lining up the light with the hole would place the shooter over a mile out on the opposite shore. Surely, the hole had already been there. It would take a shooter of incredible skill to intentionally make a shot like that — hitting a target the size of an orange from 1800 yards.
Still thinking the light had popped on its own, Smokey told me she'd gotten a note this morning. Hers read: Stay away from E Z — you'll get hurt.
"I thought it was probably from one of your bitter ex-girlfriends," she said with a sarcastic edge.
Remembering I hadn't finished reading the note I'd received this morning, I pulled it out. I reread; Now that all your other distractions are out of the way, let's have some fun. Maybe tonight's the night....
After turning it over I found the last very frightening words: ...I kill you.
Whoever left this note could tell me who ordered the hit on my wife.
The third assassin had finally shown up — and Zoya's killer might still be alive.
To be continued....
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The one that starts it all:
KNIGHT’S HELLFIRE
Book One of “The E Z Knight Reports” Series
Coming Christmas 2012!
I just returned from a botched hostage rescue and political assassination mission in the Middle East, and I brought Hell back with me. I can’t trust my former team members. Half of them have been murdered, anyway. Now something very evil is stalking my wife and kids, too.
The smart folks will tell you not to piss me off, or you could end up dead. They’re the same ones who have me against a wall of claymores, and I’m about to explode.
Make no mistake, there will be death today.
My name is E Z Knight, and I live inside thriller author Gordon A Kessler’s head. Step in out of the cold and make yourself comfortable. But get ready for one hell of a fiery ride!
Coming in Early 2013!
The one that wraps is up:
KNIGHT’S LAST SHOT
Book Five of “The E Z Knight Reports” Series
Knight's Last Shot
or:
“You always shoot the one you love!”
E Z doesn’t wait for a sniper to come after him — he goes after…her? And there’s at least one other complication. Has an old enemy been somehow resurrected?
If you miss a word of this one, you might get caught in the crossfire — or in the crosshairs.
You’ll never see coming…the bullet that kills you!
In Knight’s Last Shot, from his murdered wife’s diary, E Z finds out that she was pregnant when she died.
It’s the very last straw.
E Z watches as his young friend Rabbit is shot off his bicycle, and the sniper orders E Z and his “bitch” to meet in DC. The bastard won’t stop shooting E Z’s friends until he cooperates.
Never take a knife to a gunfight
Never corner a mountain lion and her cubs
Never shoot someone E Z loves and then think you can stop him before he kills you.
E Z’s coming — and you’ve never seen a Knight this dark. He blasted from HELLFIRE with a vengeance, now he’s jumping back into the flames for his LAST SHOT. As all the pieces finally fall into place, everyone knows E Z Knight won’t stop until he’s halfway around the globe with his hands tightly closing around the throat of the man at the top.
Follow Knight’s Last Shot across the country and then to the other side of the world as E Z faces his nemeses as well as former allies, unleashing an incredible and punishing effort to give the final reckoning.
E Z Knight ain’t the Grim Reaper, but old man Death knows him well and calls him sir.
Look for Knight's Last Shot, coming soon!
*
A Personal Message from Gordon A Kessler to the Reader:
I've been writing thriller novels for over twenty years. I enjoy writing them almost as much as I enjoy talking about them.
If you are entertained by this or any of my other works of fiction, could you be so kind as to drop me a quick email? I would appreciate it tremendously. Let me know who you are and what pleased you the most. I promise that I will personally respond.
Email me and say hi!: [email protected]
Tweet me at: https://twitter.com/gordonkessler
Link up with me at: http://www.linkedin.com/in/gordonkessler
Pin me at: http://pinterest.com/gordonkessler
And follow me at: www.facebook.com/gordon.kessler1
Please stop by my website and blog at: http://gordonkessler.com/ –it's fun and you'll be glad you did.
On the site, you'll find my blogs as well as info on not only my past work, but also on novels to come. And there's a special section giving brief bios on all the "E Z Knight Reports'" major characters. Be forewarned: you'll find a page of Oz's colorful witticisms, as well — adult readers only, please.
My Jazzy Brass has her very own fan pages on the website, complete with photos, blog and "Jazzy Brass's Missing Scenes". You'll love her, if you don't already!
Also, you'll discover a special section on the site highlighting the "Knight's Girls" (a little risqué) in a gallery showing the different Knight Girl for each current "E Z Knight Reports" novel covers, as well as some that are coming up.
Enjoy!
Want your latest Gordon Kessler novel autographed with a personal message?
Click here for your free Kindlegraph!
Please check out Kessler's other books
Thriller novels:
JEZEBEL
DEAD RECKONING
BRAINSTORM
Other "The E Z Knight Reports" series novels:
KNIGHT’S BIG EASY
KNIGHT'S RANSOM
Coming soon:
KNIGHT'S LAST SHOT
Short stories:
"Jack Baron," nostalgic romance
"Toothpick for Two," humorous relationship story
Nonfiction about novel writing:
NOVEL WRITING MADE SIMPLE
Coming soon:
EBOOK WRITING MADE SIMPLE
Gordon A Kessler is a thriller novelist, living in the Kansas City metro area with his golden retriever, Jazmin (Jazzy Brass). He's taught novel writing for several community colleges, worked over twenty years for the BNSF Railway, and is a former US Marine Recon Scout, Super Squad team leader, marksmanship coach, parachutist and troop handler. He enjoys SCUBA, sailing, snow skiing and being with his kids and grandkids.
Gordon currently has three thriller novels in both paper and eBook: Jezebel is his first, Dead Reckoning second, and Brainstorm third.
He's also published two short story eBooks: a humorous piece called "Toothpick for Two" and a nostalgic romance called "Jack Knight". Please check them out.
Alon
g with his fiction, he's published a book for writers, Novel Writing Made Simple. It's a great primer for beginners and an excellent refresher for the experienced wordsmith. He's a founder and current president of the Kansas Writers Association, a sixteen-year-old organization of some very special people. Last year, he started a group to help support independent authors called the Indie Writers Alliance--another group of great people.
Kessler's thriller novel BRAINSTORM received the following critical acclaim from New York Times Bestselling authors:
--James Rollins, NY Times bestselling author of the action thrillers Map of Bones, Black Order, The Doomsday Key and many more, says: "Gordon A. Kessler's BRAINSTORM is a wild ride into the reality of human consciousness, forcing us to question who we are and our place in the universe. It's also a kick-ass adventure story that will have you thrumming through the pages well into the night. Its blend of topical research, cutting-edge weaponry, and current political tension is handled with stunning effect."
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--Douglas Preston, NY Times bestselling author of the thrillers Relic, The Codex, Book of the Dead and many more, says: "BRAINSTORM is as exciting and fast-paced as a thrill ride on a dive bomber, a maelstrom of action, violence, murder and mayhem, way too much fun to put down once you're hooked. It is also frighteningly believable, based on an actual black CIA program known as 'Project Stargate.' Kessler is a former US Marine parachutist, recon scout, and 'Super Squad' team leader--and he really knows his stuff. An outstanding novel."
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Table of Contents
Knight's Big Easy
KNIGHT’S LATE TRAIN
KNIGHT’S RANSOM
KNIGHT'S REPORTS: 3 Book Set Page 45