by Mark Stone
“Have you ever even driven a boat?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at my friend.
“Do video games count?” he shot back.
“Not for anything. No,” I said. “But look on the bright side. What with the way your hair is starting to gray, you shove a couple more double cheeseburgers down your throat, and you’ll actually start to look like the Skipper.”
“Very rude, LJ,” Davey said. “I’d hate you if I didn’t love you so much.”
“That, and the fact that I’m paying for everything,” I answered with a chuckle.
“Why do you think I love you in the first place?” he asked, nudging me with his shoulder. “Looks pretty alive tonight,” he added, motioning to the bevy of people on the deck of Mia’s houseboat.
Davey was right. Mia told him she’d invited a few people, but what I saw was no fewer than two dozen folks all crammed up on the deck of the boat, clinking drinks together, laughing, and lounging around. Music that sounded like some reggae stuff I’d never heard before thumped from an unseen speaker, and a tall guy manned a grill on the port side.
“It does,” I said, nodding as I walked forward to board the ship. I wasn’t complaining. After what had happened with Wendy and Charlotte, this was just what I needed to clear my head and get myself back on track. I hadn’t told them what I was going to do yet, whether I had decided to help them in getting the Linchpin. Still, in the back of my mind, part of me knew it wasn’t even a question. I mean, what was I going to do, just sit back and let the bad guys get something that would help them make the world an unlivable place? That wasn’t me, and even if it was, it shouldn’t have been. To whom much is given, much is expected. That was either from the Bible or a Hallmark card my grandmother sent me along with twenty bucks for my fifteenth birthday. Maybe both. In any event, the sentiment was true, and since I’d been given much, the least I could do was use the gifts I had to do the right thing.
That didn’t mean I needed to tell them that yet. Charlotte and Wendy had surprised me, springing this on me two days before it was supposed to happen. I was going to make them sweat to even things out. At least for long enough for me to enjoy this party, anyway.
“So, this is for Mia’s sister?” Davey asked as we boarded the houseboat.
“That’s what she told me,” I said.
“Did she say if she was a babe?” Davey asked, smiling widely and nodding at me.
“You’re asking me if Mia told me whether her own sister was a babe?” I asked, emphasizing my words so that he might understand how ridiculous he sounded.
“I am,” he answered flatly, my intention obviously missing the mark.
“It didn’t come up,” I replied.
“That’s a shame,” Davey said. “I have high hopes, though. If she’s anything like her sister, she’ll be—”
“Not interested in you?” I interrupted, finishing his thought for him.
“Again with the harshness,” Davey said, shaking his head. “And you don’t know that. By the end of the night, they could both be fighting over me. After all, what was it that Mia said I had? A harem?” He arched his eyebrows at me. “Did she seem jealous?”
“She seemed confused,” I retorted.
“Whatever. I’m mingling,” he said. “You’re no fun. Also, buy me a boat.”
“I’ll consider it,” I mumbled.
“Thanks, Gilligan,” he said, patting me on the back before he walked away, disappearing into the crowd on the boat.
“You’re Gilligan,” I said loudly, shouting after him. “You’re Gilligan!”
“I thought his name was Davey,” a voice said from behind me. Turning, I saw Mia walking toward me. She had a bottle of beer in each hand and a light kind of smile on her face that I didn’t see on her enough.
“It is,” I said, looking her up and down, my eyes resting on the way her yellow dress draped her curves. “It’s just a thing. It’s stupid.”
“If you say so,” she answered. “I’m glad you came, Lucky.”
“Glad to be here, White,” I answered, returning her use of my last name. “Looks like a hell of a party.”
“Bigger than I expected,” Mia admitted, shrugging as she handed me one of the beers. “I’m not sure why I’m surprised, though. My sister’s always been the popular sort. If anything, I should be a bit shocked there aren’t fifty more people onboard.”
“I’m not sure the fire marshal would like that,” I said, taking a swig of beer and then raising the bottle to the woman. She clinked it as she answered me.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t care. My sister’s never been a fan of rules,” Mia said.
“Which leads me to believe she hasn’t followed your footsteps and become a police officer,” I replied.
“Not exactly,” Mia said. “She’s more of a free spirit than that. She’s something of a reporter, though she doesn’t work for a paper or a news station.”
“What kind of reporter doesn’t work for a paper or news station?” I asked.
“The kind that wants job security,” a familiar voice said from behind me. Turning, I saw a familiar face, one I wasn’t keen on seeing again. Random stood there, a drink in her hand and a knowing look on her face. “Like I told you before,” she said, winking at me, “I’m scrappy.”
10
“Random?” I asked, looking from one of the women to the other and finally seeing the resemblance. I hadn’t noticed it before, the way this new woman had the same nose as Mia, the same eyes, the same crinkle around her mouth. She was a touch younger, sure, and her expression held more trouble than I had ever seen on Mia’s face, but there was no doubt these two were related.
“You know my sister?” Mia asked, taking a step forward and settling between us. “How on earth could you know my sister?”
“She hassled me at the Rusty Bucket the other day,” I answered. “Wanting to make a movie or something.”
“God, really, Random?” Mia asked, throwing her hands out and sighing at her sister. I could tell from the look on her face that this was neither an unexpected turn for Mia nor the first time she’d had to deal with something like that.
“Hassle is a strong word,” Random balked. “What I did was lay out some very real and very reasonable options.”
“You told me you could put me on a box of Wheaties, and then you went to my friend and tried to milk him for information with wine and flirting,” I replied.
“Gilligan?” Mia asked.
“I thought his name was Davey,” Random said.
“It doesn’t matter what his name is,” I said. “The point is, you shouldn’t have come to him. I told you I didn’t want anything to do with you, and you refused to listen to me.”
“You didn’t want anything to do with me?” Random balked.
“Strange words coming from someone who is, at this moment, literally attending a party in my honor,” Random said, chuckling bitterly at me.
“That’s different,” I said, shaking my head at her. “Mia invited me here. I had no idea the little sister she was talking about was you. If I had, I never would have come, and I’m sure Davey wouldn't, either.”
“Randy!” Davey’s voice boomed from behind me. I didn’t need to even turn my head to see my best friend slide into view, scooping Random up into a hug as if to wordlessly prove me wrong.
“Oh, yeah. He’s fuming,” Random muttered, looking at me as Davey let her go.
“What are you doing here?” Davey asked, a smile brightening up his face.
“It’s my party,” she answered.
“She’s Mia’s sister,” I explained.
“Really?” Davey said, looking her up and down as if he were just seeing her for the first time. “Check it out. I was right. Mia’s sister is a babe.” He shook his head. “So, your name is Random White?”
“It is,” Random said.
“That’s such a kickass name,” he answered. “It’s like a spy name or something.”
“Maybe I am,” she cooed, s
hrugging her shoulders and winking at Davey. “I like to keep you guys on your toes.” She looked back over at me, sighing with enough emotion that I knew it was a put on. “I just wish your friend here was as happy to see me as you are.”
“LJ!” Davey said, looking over at me with mock shock on his face.
“One more time and I’m breaking your kneecaps, dude,” I said, alluding to the nickname he had recently taken to calling me by. “And it’s not that I’m not happy to see you. I’m glad you’re back. Mia’s best friend just moved away. I think having her sister around could really help wit that. And I don’t see any reason we can’t be friends, assuming you can chill out about trying to get into my business and turn me into a household name.”
“You already are a household name, Lucky. There’s no turning necessary. Someone is going to profit from that. I just wanted to make sure that someone was you,” Random said.
“Random!” Mia said, her voice a warning.
“I get it,” Random said, holding her hands out in the air to show surrender. “You don’t want to take control of your narrative. I guess I can’t make you.” She tilted her head to the side. “Which, I suppose, means I’m not supposed to ask you what Charlotte York is doing in town.”
“Seriously?” I asked, sighing as my jaw tensed up. “How did you even know that?”
“I have my ways,” Random answered, which had to be worst answer possible for a question like that.
“Who is Charlotte York?” Mia asked, looking from one of us to the next. It was Davey who responded.
“She’s the chick John saved at the truck stop, the one he had sex with and then gave ten million dollars to,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Davey!” I scolded.
“Sorry,” Davey muttered. “She’s the woman, the woman he had sex with and then gave ten million dollars to.”
“Come with me,” I said, ignoring Davey and motioning to Random. “I need to talk to you.”
Wordlessly, the woman followed me as I took her off the boat, down the dock, and away from her party. The music was a faint thing as I settled beside my car, turning to her and digging in. “I need you to back off in terms of Charlotte,” I stated flatly.
“Does someone still have a thing for someone else?” Random asked, giving me a half smirk. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to portray your girlfriend in a bad light.”
“I don’t give a damn about what kind of light you show things in,” I snapped back. “This is bigger than that. There are things going on here that you don’t know anything about.”
“And I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me about them?” Random asked, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at me in a way meant to make me wither. Standing here under the moonlight with a look on her face that told me she was willing and able to go toe to toe with me on just about anything, it occurred to me that the woman reminded me a lot of her sister.
“Trust me, even if I could tell you what this was about, you wouldn’t believe me,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“In my career, I’ve found that a lot of people who have something to hide usually use that excuse,” she said. “My response to them is, ‘Why don’t you try me?’ ”
A bubble of irritation rose up from my gut and settled into my chest. Like I didn’t have enough on my plate already, now I was expected to deal with Mia’s baby sister’s incessant curiosity and bull-headed desire to make a television show.
“I’m not telling you this to be stubborn, sweetheart,” I shot back. “Like I’ve said before, this is my life, and if I don’t want to share it, I won’t. And it really won’t matter how many times you bug me about it or how tightly you wind my best friend around your little finger. I’m not changing my mind, and I’m not about to get my undies all wadded up over the notion. But this is different, Random. Digging around in this could get you into a lot of trouble.”
“You do understand that posing an issue like that to an investigative journalist is maybe the worst way you could have gone about this,” she said. “Now my curiosity is up to ten.”
“I don’t really give a damn about your curiosity. I care about your life and your sister’s. And I don’t want to see the second thing I care about devastated because the first thing came to a violent and needless end.” I took a step toward Random. “I know you’ve been studying me. I get that you’ve been scouring newspaper articles or whatever it is you journalistic types do, but can I make a suggestion?”
“I’m all ears,” she cooed.
“You’re all trouble, is what you are,” I answered. “But talk to your sister. Ask her if I play games or if I’m ever, even for a second, overdramatic about anything.” My eyes narrowed at the woman. “When I tell you that you need to stay out of this, that your life could be in danger if you don’t, I’m being completely serious. They call me Lucky, and maybe I am, but trouble follows me, Random.”
As the words left my mouth, lights illuminated the woman’s face. Turning back, I saw the glow of headlights bearing down on us. They were coming quickly, and they weren’t stopping. I grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pulled her close to me. Then, without missing a beat, I leapt out of the way. It was just in time as the car slammed into mine. The crunch of metal and sounds of shattering glass filled the air as I fell to the ground, Random lying on top of me.
“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, her body shaking on mine.
Before I could answer, the door of the other car slammed and another voice yelled, “Lucky John, we need to talk.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered to Random. “I just hate it when I’m right.”
11
“Stay down,” I murmured to Random, pushing myself off her and standing before she had a chance to respond. The music coming from Mia’s boat was a whisper as I looked at my now smashed up car and the tank of an old pickup truck responsible for the damage. Still, I knew that, for as quiet as it was here, it was loud on the boat, perhaps loud enough to stop anyone from being able to hear the sounds of the crash that had just occurred.
And this crash was no accident. I might have been able to think it was if not for the voice shouting to speak to me. That told me that not only was this not an accident, but it was a deliberate attack on me. Someone wanted to take me out, and they apparently saw the pretty blonde I was arguing with at the moment as necessary collateral damage.
Turning toward the truck, I watched it back up, pulling away shards of glass and crinkling the metal of my car even more. The driver was obviously still inside, but the man who had yelled at me stood in the parking lot, staring at me as the headlights settled behind him, backlighting him and causing me to squint. Thought I couldn’t make out most of the details of his face, context clues told me the man staring at me had to be one of three people . . . and they all had the same last name.
“Mangrove?” I asked, digging in and steadying myself.
The man stepped forward. As he did, more of his features came into view. He had the same slack jaw, the same bulbous forehead, and the same crooked nose as Russ. Of course, I had broken Russ’s nose. So maybe I actually did the dude a favor and straightened it out. Either way, it was obvious this guy and Russ shared the same blood, and judging from the way he was sneering at me now, they also shared the same hatred for me.
“Does my reputation proceed me?” the man asked, his voice deep and gravelly.
“Maybe,” I conceded. “Though I’m not sure ‘trashy’ is the sort of reputation you want preceding you.”
“Maybe not, but it beats dead, which is what people are going to be saying about you pretty soon,” the man said.
“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t start shaking and begging for mercy,” I muttered. “It’s just, you’re not the first person who’s told me that. All you guys promise to kill, and here I am. No offense, but I’m starting to think you all might be doing it wrong.”
“You’re funny,” the man said, settling in front of me. As he did, I caught a whiff of
cheap beer, the same kind he might have been able to smell on me if he had caught me on a different night of the week. Taking another look at him, I saw the guy was a little bigger than me, he had a bit more muscle, and there was a tattoo of an ‘R’ on his forearm. Still, I wasn’t afraid. I had been up against guys like him before, guys bigger than him too. I tore through every one of them.
“You gonna compliment me or kill me, my man?” I asked, almost nose to nose with the guy.
“A talented man can do both,” he grunted. “Name’s Rascal Mangrove.”
“Rascal?” I asked, smiling a little and shaking my head. Rascal, Random, and Lucky. We were quite the group. Hell, we were a ‘Harvest’ or a ‘Wheat’ away from being able to form our own traveling folk band with names like that. Still, something told me Rascal wouldn’t care too much about my observations.
“You should know my name,” he said before I could say anything else. “A man should know the name of the person who ends him. It’s the least I can do.”
“The least you could have done was not slam into my car and try to kill me and an innocent woman,” I answered. “Or, better yet, you could have taken your ass and your useless brothers out of town and stopped terrorizing people.”
He chuckled. It was a sharp, bitter thing that pulled his head backward.
“What have you been here, three whole days?” Rascal said. “This is my home. I grew up on these streets. I grew up on this water. I’ll be damned if I let some punk on a lucky streak run me and mine away from our home.”
“Oh, I’m not going to do that,” I answered calmly. “That’ll be the police. You see, when your brother goes to prison for the crap he pulled, that’s what’ll drive him away from his home. I won’t have anything to do with it aside from the fact that I caught him and called the police, of course.” I shrugged. “I mean, I did do that part.” A smile dragged across my lips. “Wait a second. Is that what you’re upset about? Is that what’s stopping us from being friends?” I gave the man a sarcastic pat on the arm and tried not to think about how big his biceps were. “Excuse me, from being best friends.”