“We leaked the information that his guys were arrested by DEA, like you said.”
“It worked perfect. Now he doesn't want to trust anyone. He's going to personally ride each shipment from now on. If I take the job, he'll let me know when to pick him up. But, it's in a little fishing village on the western tip of Cuba.”
“The ADD isn’t going to go for that,” he said. “I’ve already told you that.”
“Yeah,” I said, “and like I said before, just don’t tell him. Look, your intel says he’s moving guns to Hezbollah and my intel says he’s trading guns for grass. If he’s smuggling guns into Cuba, it can't be to Fidel’s forces, he was adamant that the place wasn’t patrolled by gun boats. He hasn’t mentioned guns though. I'll know more tonight. Gotta run.”
“Jesse, wait...” he started to say something more, but I’d already turned the phone off as I heard the shower stop in the head.
Tina came into the salon, with a large towel wrapped around her and another one wrapped around her head. “I forgot my bag,” she said.
The towel wrapped around her body, barely touched her thighs. I just stood there with my mouth open. She reached past me and picked her bag up off the settee and I said, “Oh, yeah, um, your bag. Sorry.”
She smiled and said, “The bathroom, I mean, the head is all yours. Where can I get dressed?”
Collecting my wits I said, “The guest bunk is across from the head.” I brushed past her and stepped down into the companionway and opened the door to what used to be Jimmy's bunk. “Make yourself at home,” I said. Then I went into the forward stateroom, grabbed a pair of cargo shorts and a tee-shirt from my hanging locker and went into the head. I was glad to see her door was closed tight.
I was in and out of the shower in seven minutes. Another habit from the Corps. Her door was still closed, so I went into the galley and poured us both a cup of coffee. When she came into the salon, I was in the galley frying bacon and mixing up some eggs. She was wearing cutoff jeans and a Blue Heaven half tee-shirt.
“Bacon and egg omelet okay?” I asked trying not to stare.
“Perfect,” she said. “What can I do to help?”
“There's some chives, onions, and tomatoes in the fridge. Chop up whatever you'd like to put in it.”
“Anything you don't like in an omelet?” she asked.
“I'll eat anything on this boat,” I said. “Otherwise, it wouldn't be here.”
“Anything?” she asked with a wicked smile.
I almost dropped the mixing bowl.
“Sorry,” she said, with a chuckle. “I couldn't resist myself.”
“You're making it damn hard for me,” I said
Then, realizing what I'd just said, we both laughed. “Just get to chopping, woman,” I said.
We ate quickly and Tina volunteered to clean up, while I got ready to make way. I went up to the bridge and started the engines, as the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. I switched on all the electronics, then climbed down and untied the mooring lines. By the time I stepped back aboard, Tina was just coming out of the salon.
“Everything's put away in the kitchen,” she said.
“Galley,” I corrected her.
She rolled her eyes and said, “Is there a book I can buy that has all these terms in it?” Then she handed me my thermos and two mugs of coffee and added, “I figured you'd like more.”
“You figured right,” I said. “We're all set, go ahead on up and I'll hand these up to you.”
I tried not to look as she climbed the ladder, but it was hopeless. By this time, I was certain she was purposely enticing me. She got to the top, turned around and bent over the rail for the coffee, her breasts nearly spilling out of her shirt. I handed the thermos and mugs up to her, then climbed up myself. She took the second seat and poured us both a cup, sitting mine in the cup holder by the helm.
I put the boat in gear and idled forward to the end of the piers, then reversed the starboard engine to make the tight turn. Minutes later, we were in the channel heading out of Stock Island. As we cleared the last markers I turned west and said, “When do you have to be back?”
“Nikki is filling in for me tonight,” she said. “My shift tomorrow night starts at seven o'clock. Or should that be 1700?”
“1900,” I said. “You add twelve, for a twenty-four hour clock. “I have some business to see to at noon tomorrow in Marathon. Should be able to get back to Key West by 1800 easy.”
I looked over and could see she was thinking. Then she said, “Six o'clock!”
I reached my arm around her and hugged her close. “I'll make a swab out of you yet,” I said.
“Is that good?” she asked.
“Well, it's a step up from Galley Wench.”
“I know I'm not a boat person,” she said. “But shouldn't we be going the other way?”
“Oh dang,” I said. She looked at me concerned and I laughed. “The water from the Atlantic up to my house is too shallow,” I said. “We'll run the Gulf to Harbor Key Bank and come down through Harbor Channel. There's a chart in that cabinet to your right.”
She opened it and I pointed out the one on top. She pulled it out and unrolled it. Pointing out the different features I said, “Here's Harbor Key Bank. See the channel going south, then southwest? That's Harbor Channel. And that little dot, where the channel turns south, is my island.”
I pushed the throttles forward and the Revenge raised her bow momentarily then came up on plane. I synched the engines at 1800 rpm, its most economical speed. Thirty minutes later, we were through Northwest Channel and turning northeast at Smith Shoal. I had the sonar searching forward to keep us off the many obstructions in this area.
Once we were clear and running in deep water I said, “You want to take the helm?”
“I thought you'd never ask,” she said and stood up to change seats.
I slid over as she squeezed between me and the helm, straddling my legs. She finally settled in at the helm and took the wheel. I'd already punched in the light at Harbor Key Bank on the GPS. “See the line on the chart plotter?” I asked. She nodded and I said, “Just follow that line. In about thirty minutes you should be able to see the light. It flashes every four seconds.”
She looked out over the bow and I could see her looking for just the right cloud to follow, glancing at the GPS now and then. She looked right at home there, with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and a big grin. I was thinking it'd be nice to spend more time with her.
“You know,” she said. “I could call Nikki and she'd probably take my Friday night shift, too.”
She looked over at me, smiled and added, “Unless you have somewhere else to be.”
“No,” I said. “All I have is some business in Marathon at noon today and a phone call to make about some other business tomorrow afternoon. Can’t think of anything else on my day planner.”
Suddenly, my cell phone rang. I hadn't heard it in so long I didn’t recognize it at first. Then it took a couple more rings to find it in the console. By the time I opened it up to see who it was, they’d hung up.
“Anything important?” Tina asked.
“An old friend,” I said. “Rusty and I served together back in the early eighties. He owns the Rusty Anchor Bar and Grill in Marathon.”
I hit redial and he picked up before the first ring ended. “Where the hell you been, bro?” he asked.
“Out past the Marquesas,” I said. “Been piloting Trent's shrimp boat the last few days. What's up?”
“You gonna come around any time soon?”
“Yeah,” I said. “In fact, I'm meeting that lawyer at the Anchor at noon tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” he said. “Guess who's back in town?”
“Who?”
“Dan Sullivan,” he said. “He's agreed to play here Friday, Saturday, and Sunday afternoon on the deck, for the next month.”
Dan and I went way back. He's a guitar player and used to make a decent living at it, up a
nd down the Keys. We met at Dockside about six years ago, just after I bought the Revenge. I learned he was into Tae Kwon Do and we started working out and sparring together. He left over a year ago, sailing across the Caribbean, spreading his laid back, island style music. Last I heard he was on Tortola in the British Virgin Islands.
“Deck? What deck?”
“You need to come around more often,” he said. “I built a nice deck out back with a stage last month. Dan's playing two sets on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, in exchange for dock space.”
I cupped the phone and said to Tina, “Go ahead and call Nikki. We're gonna be on Marathon until Saturday afternoon.” She smiled.
“Who you talking to?” Rusty asked.
“Just a lady friend, piloting the Revenge for me,” I said. “I'll introduce you tomorrow. Should be there by 1100 or so.”
“Okay, bro,” he said. “See ya then.”
I ended the call, closed the phone and put it in my shirt pocket. Tina looked at me and said, “Didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he talks loud. An old friend in town, I gather?”
“Yeah, you'll like his music. He's playing and staying at the Anchor. We'll spend tonight at the house and go down there in the morning and stay at the docks.”
“Where's Carl staying?” she asked.
“They're in the guest cottage on the back of the island,” I said. “Their kids, too.”
“Oh,” she said. “I think I better go down and change before we get there.”
“You look good to me,” I said leering at her.
“That was the idea,” she said with a sultry smile. “But, maybe something a little more conservative around the kids? Take the helm.”
“Aye aye, Admiral,” I said. She went down to the salon and was back up on the bridge in less than five minutes, wearing blue jeans and a long sleeve green blouse.
“I didn't bring a whole lot of clothes,” she said.
“Don't worry about it,” I said. “I'll take you shopping Saturday morning.” She seemed to like that idea, based on the huge smile and kiss she gave me.
The light for Harbor Key Bank was visible about a mile ahead. I slowed the big boat to barely above planing speed and started a slow turn to the south.
“There's a narrow, natural channel coming up,” I said. “See those red crab trap floats up ahead?”
“Yeah, they look pretty close together,” she said.
“That they are,” I said as I brought the Revenge down off plane. I switched the sonar to forward scan and idled toward the crab floats. “I call this Narrow Cut. It doesn't have a name on any chart. Actually, it's not even on a lot of charts.” We eased between the floats, barely five feet on either side, then wound slowly toward Harbor Channel. I was on my feet for a better view and used the engines, as much as the helm to maneuver through it.
Once clear of Narrow Cut, I turned southwest and followed Harbor Channel for about a mile. “Is that it?” Tina asked, pointing to my dock and the roof of my house showing above the mangroves and buttonwoods.
“Yep,” I said. “That's home.” I could see Trent's two kids running out onto the dock, with Pescador trotting along happily behind them. I suddenly realized I really missed the big shaggy mutt.
I started to turn south, following the channel, then reversed the port engine and revved it until the big boat spun around. I dropped it to idle and reversed the starboard engine and slowly backed up the little channel. I pressed the button on the key fob and the big doors on the west side of the house slowly opened.
Tina looked around and said, “You have electricity? I don't see any power lines.”
“The doors open by springs,” I said. “There's a solar panel and wind turbine that charge big batteries to run the place. The motor to close the doors and everything else on the island is twelve volt.”
Trent came down the steps to the dock, as I backed under the house, gently bumping the fenders hanging on the rear and side dock at about the same time. He took a line lashed the stern cleats and looked up at us, “Welcome home, McDermitt,” he said.
“Good to see ya, Trent,” I said. “Have any trouble?”
“Had a great time,” he said. “Charlie really loves it here. The kids, too. Hi Tina, what are you doing here?”
Just then, Pescador came running down the steps and leaped into the cockpit. He sat down and his tail was almost wagging him, as he looked up at us on the bridge. I shut off the engines and started to climb down.
“I shanghaied her,” I said. “Tina, this is my best buddy, Pescador.” I stepped over onto the deck, knelt down and scratched him behind the ears. In a rare display of affection, he licked my face. I turned as Tina came down the ladder and lifted her off the last step. She turned around and Pescador looked at her, then at me.
“Pescador, this is my friend, Tina.” I said. He looked at her again, wagged his tail and barked once. Turning to her I said, “He likes you.”
“How can you tell?” she asked.
Trent answered for me, “If he didn't, there'd be no question about it. Jesse, that's about the smartest dog I've ever seen in my life. He killed a little spinner yesterday. It almost bit Patty. Snatched it up out of the water and just slung it back and forth till it was dead.”
Tina reached out and seeing what I did, she scratched Pescador behind the ear. “What's a spinner?” she asked.
“A shark,” I said. “There's lots of them around here. Mostly little, like Trent said.”
Charlie came down the steps and said, “I thought I heard your voice, Tina. How've you been?”
“Fine,” she said. “You look good.”
“It's this island,” she said with a smile. “I can't remember a time I've been so relaxed. Y'all come on out back, after you drop your gear in the house. I have lunch almost ready.”
“Hope you don't mind, Jesse,” Trent said, “There's a lot of lumber back there, so I built a big outdoor table.”
“That's what it was for,” I said. “I need about four of them.”
I went into the salon and picked up both our bags and carried them as we walked up the steps, where the kids were waiting at the top. They said hi and took off down the back steps. Pescador looked up at me and I nodded. He was off running after the kids.
“Y'all go ahead,” I said. “We'll be just a second.” I opened the door to the house for Tina and we walked in. She went first to the kitchen side of the main room, as I carried both our bags into the bedroom. When I came out, she was standing in the middle of the room, noting that I'd put both our bags in the bedroom.
“You have two rooms back there?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Just one room with two beds?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“One bed and a hammock? One bed and a couch?”
“Just one big bed,” I said.
She walked past me and looked inside. Then she slowly turned back toward me, her dark eyes smoldering.
“Are you sure about this, Jesse?”
“Yes,” I said. “Let's go eat, then I'll have Pescador catch us something for supper.”
“This I've got to see,” she said and took my hand as we walked toward the back steps. Before we got to the steps, my phone rang again. “Popular guy today,” she said.
I opened the phone and saw it was Deuce. I told her to go ahead that I needed to take the call and didn't get a signal off the deck. I opened the phone and said, “Not a good time, Deuce.”
“Never is,” he said. “I had to tell the ADD about Cuba and Santiago trading guns for marijuana.”
“You need to lighten up a little, buddy,” I said. “Grass, pot, or weed.”
“Whatever,” he said. “The Director wants to catch him in the act of delivering arms. We're pretty sure the people he's trading them to for weed are a Hezbollah cell, working out of western Cuba.”
“Hezbollah?” I said. “They controlled most of Lebanon, when I was there in '82. A pretty unfriendly group of people.”
“When?” I asked. “I'm at home right now.”
“Perfect,” he said. “We can be there by 1500.”
“No good,” I said. “I have guests here.”
“Trent?” he asked. “That's good. The Director wants to debrief him. See if he can give us any more to work with.”
“Trent, his wife, his kids, and a friend of mine,” I said irritably.
“This is important, Jesse. Who's the friend?”
“A lady I met in Key West, if you gotta know.”
“Trent needs to know who you are working with, so clue him in. But your friend is out of the loop.”
“Hey, Deuce,” I said sternly. “This is my island, remember. On my boat and on my island, I call the shots. That's not debatable.”
“Like I said, Jesse, this is muy importante. Think you can make something up, so that the four of us can sit down together for half an hour?”
“You flying in a DHS chopper would make that difficult,” I said.
“It'll be a civilian chopper. Tell your friend and Mrs. Trent that we want to see your island about a base for a fishing expedition or something.”
“Okay,” I said reluctantly. “But remind Smith that I'm not his lapdog or errand boy.”
Smith's voice came over the phone and I realized Deuce had me on speaker, “I'd never considered you anything of the kind, Gunny.”
“See you at 1500,” I said. “And don't be late.”
I walked down the steps and joined the others for lunch. After we'd eaten, I invited Trent to walk out onto the north dock, while Charlie and Tina cleaned up. Once we were at the end of the long dock I said, “I have to tell you something, Trent.”
“If you're gonna brag about your landing, save it,” he said. “But, I might call you from time to time to check those fishing reports.”
“I work for Homeland Security,” I said. I let that sink in, while he pulled a cigarette out of a pack and lit it. “When I came down to Key West last week, it was only to help a friend’s dad out of a jam. Then it turned out that Santiago has been on DHS's radar for some time.”
Fallen Hunter (Jesse McDermitt Series) Page 14