by Mark Stone
‘How did you know that?” the man asked.
“Like I said, you should have asked me my name,” Rascal answered. He stepped behind the front desk and into the restaurant. This time, the guy with the pencil mustache didn’t try to stop him. “You guys hired a kid named Russ Mangrove last week, didn’t you?”
“I’m not in charge of the hiring, but the name doesn’t sound familiar,” the man said.
“Probably because he gave you a fake one. He’s good at that,” Rascal said. “He’s not exactly the most honest person in the world, and he’s got a way of making people look the other way about things they shouldn’t.”
“You’re saying this new hire is responsible for the recent loss of our fine silvers?” the man asked as though it wasn’t an idea he should have immediately entertained.
‘I’m telling you I know Russ Mangrove, and that he’s not working at a place like this for the tips,” Rascal answered. “Now, just point me to him so I can take the little bastard home and, if you’re lucky, I might actually get you guys back some of your silver as a bonus. No promises, though.”
“We have a full house tonight, Mr…?”
“Rascal,” he said, deciding to give him his first name as opposed to his last. Rascal had already dropped Russ’ name and he didn’t feel the need to let him in on the fact that the screw up and criminal working for them was also his baby brother.
“Mr. Rascal,” the man amended. “We have a full house, including the mayor and at least two food critics. I can’t have a bar fight going down in the kitchen of this restaurant.”
“Just another reason bars are superior,” Rascal mused. “Nobody gets their panties in a wad about a couple of guys settling business in one of those.” He nodded at the man. “Plus, they also have pretty good chalupas, I hear.”
“Very well,” the man said. “Do what you need to do, but be quick and concise with it, please. Though, if the new hire is, as you say, both responsible for this and lying about his identity, I feel it might be in both of our best interests to call the authorities.”
“You can call the cops if you want,” Rascal said, clearing his throat to ensure the skip in his heart couldn’t be heard in his voice. “But flashing blue and red lights don’t seem like the impression you want to make on food critics and the mayor.” Rascal folded his arms. “Now, on the other hand, if you’d just point me in the direction of this guy, I can put an end to all of this in a matter of seconds in a really quiet way. No muss. No fuss.”
“One does hate fuss,” the man said. Nodding, he sighed. “He’s on his break. I think he’s smoking behind the restaurant.”
“Of course, he is,” Rascal muttered. “This won’t take long.”
“Sir,” the man said, motioning to Rascal as he walked past him and toward the back door.”If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here? What does this man have to do with you?”
“Let’s just say we go way back,” Rascal muttered, noy breaking stride as he walked toward the back.
Rascal pushed out the door and into the rear of the restaurant. It was a mess, which totally made sense the the man. He had been around enough to know that everything was a crap heap if you dig deep enough. The only difference was whether or not you wanted to own up to it. As it turned out, this particular establishment liked to hide their crap out back.
No wonder that was where Russ was.
As Rascal closed the door behind him, pushing past the smell of the open dumpsters and wave of hot air that rushed him, he instantly knew something wasn’t right.
Rascal heard a noise. It was a sound he was all too familiar with, the sound of fighting in the distance.
“Damn it, Russ,” Rascal muttered as he jogged toward the sound of the noise.
Rounding the corner, Rascal saw a sight that took his breath away. Several men had his brother lifted off the ground. Russ had been beat to hell. He was bleeding, his eye puffed up and his shirt ripped. They held him in front of the open back door of a white van.
“Hey!” Rascal shouted, his eyes going wide and his heart beating like a jackhammer against his ribcage. “Hey, put him down, you sonsofbitches!”
They, of course, didn’t listen. That was okay. They’d listen when their jaws were broken and they were scattered on the ground around him.
“You’re going to be sorry you did that!” Rascal grunted as he watched them toss his brother into the back of the van like he was ragdoll.
Then one of them turned, and Rascal saw a gun in his hand.
The man lept to the side, behind one of the open dumpsters as shots rang out.
They stopped quickly, though, and Rascal peeked out from behind his perch just in time to see the van pull off, carrying his brother inside.
Making a mental note of the tag number, he screamed. His brother had been a pain in the ass his entire life, but he was his. Rascal always knew that, one day, the stuff Russ did was going to lead him to a bad end, but that day wouldn’t be today. He swore it. He’d make sure to get his brother back regardless of what it cost, regardless of what he had to do, and regardless of who he had to ask for help.
Want to know what happens to Lucky John, Mia, Davey, and the rest of the gang?
Well, I’ve got some bad news for you.
Amazon won’t tell you when the next book is out!
You’ll be left wondering what happens in Bonita Springs to all your favorite characters, and that’s not great because- I promise- what’s coming up next is pretty awesome.
But don’t worry. There’s good news!
To find out what’s happening next to the Naples crew, all you have to do is:
Sign up for my monthly newsletter right here! I’ll let you know when the next book will be coming out and I’ll keep you posted on free stuff and upcoming adventures. Also, if you like this book and want me to continue with the adventures of Lucky John, please consider leaving a review. They help SO MUCH.
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For more on Dillon Storm and his group of Naples neighbors, check out the sequels.
Book 2: Far From Shore can be found here. Check it out!
Book 3 Across the Sound can be found here.
Book 4: Caught in the Surf can be found here
Book 5: Buried in the Sand can be found here
And…
A new Spinoff Series set in the Coastal Justice world, Coastal Law, can be found here.
Thanks, and until next time, happy sailing,
Mark