Miami Malice

by Matt Lincoln

  Prologue

  I stepped out into the fresh air and felt the gentle spray of the ocean breeze on my face. It was a welcome greeting after the drive here, let me tell you. I glanced over the rows of beach bungalows and stilted houses and located the correct one. Bridget had found what might well have been the perfect place to settle down for retirement. I’d give her that. Well, perfect for her, anyway. As for me, well… maybe someday…

  There was a pleasant, paved pathway that curved and meandered around flower beds and mailboxes along the street. The homes seemed to fade into the shoreline as the colors and horizons melted against the landscape. The air smelled differently than I was used to, but it was a nice change. There wasn’t much time for sightseeing, though, before I heard a sweet, familiar, feminine voice calling out to me from one of the houses.

  “Jake? You made it.” She sounded excited. “In good time, too.”

  Bridget Lemon was looking good for a lady who had just returned from a nationwide tour. Her hair was shorter than the last time I’d seen her. That was a few years ago. She’d let nature take its course and let the silver have its way. In a way, it really suited her. The term ‘silver fox’ could probably be used to describe her now. And it would be accurate.

  She looked well suited for this place. As she walked toward me from her home, I noticed that even her clothes were sea and beach colored, with grays and browns and blues meant for a relaxed lifestyle and comfort. I could get behind that style.

  It was good to see her again. After her husband, my half-brother Darrell, or ‘Dare,’ as we called him, had been killed, Bridget had gone through a hard time. Coping with her loss had taken a lot of her energy. No one could blame her, though. She and Dare had been one of those couples that just ‘fit’ together. Both were divers extraordinaire, and they had a YouTube Channel called ‘Dare’s Dives’ that educated and entertained the masses.

  Sadly, after a trip and dive to Belize and the Blue Hole, things changed. Some morons, not caring about anyone or anything else, decided to dump their toxic crap there. It was that exposure that claimed Dare’s life. Bridget still had scars, of all kinds, from the situation, but the worst part was that it killed her husband and my brother.

  I’d always promised myself to look in on Bridget and keep an eye on her. I may have been a little lax in that, but lately, it just seemed right to do it more often now. Not that I didn’t have good reasons to skip visits. My past had been a little… unconventional. And I didn’t exactly have a lifestyle that invited a lot of schedule and routine. A former SEAL, Captain, Extraction Specialist, modern-day Buccaneer… I could thank Ethan Marston for that last one.

  As I got closer to Bridget, she reached out for a hug. She’s family, after all.

  “Look at you!” She happily played with my hair. “Are you keeping your youthful appearance with a bottle, Jake?” She liked to tease me about the lack of gray in my black hair. I’d never let on, but I’d been finding a few more grays up there than I’d have liked to.

  “What can I say? Its genetics?” I smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek.

  There was a brief, sad smile from her as she ushered me up the stairs and into her home. Once inside, I took a moment to look around as I placed my bag on the floor. Bridget had decorated the place herself, and it showed. It had a mellow, cozy atmosphere, even though the living room was open and breezy. Muted tones and solid colors were the motifs. Memories of her past filled the spaces, and you couldn’t help but feel welcomed here.

  One wall, the one to the right of the full windows looking out to the beach, was a centerpiece to Darrell. Framed photos, fan art, and other memorabilia adorned the wall in a wonderful array of tribute to him. Standing side by side, we both took a moment to respect and admire it before Bridget moved on and settled into what I assumed was her favorite chair. It was pale blue with some kind of pattern to it. Looking at it, she must have spent quite a bit of time there as the fabric showed signs of wear and excess use, just looking out at the beach. I probably would, too, come to think of it. It was a great view of the shore.

  So, I took the hint and plopped down opposite her on the barely used couch.

  “So, how was your vacation?” I teased her. I knew that she’d only been home for a few days now.

  “Anything but!” She smiled about it, and she got a faraway look in her eyes. I imagined she was thinking back to the last month or so. “I never thought a book tour would be so exhausting. But the launch was great, and my agent wanted to capitalize on it. Who am I to say no to a fully paid trip around the country?” She grinned to herself, probably remembering a certain unimportant thing or two.

  “‘Dare to Do It’ is really something. I never knew how many people would appreciate having their stories and adventures told by an old lady like me.” The twinkle in her eyes was still there, and it reminded me of someone else.

  I smiled before I replied. “Well, Dare was one of a kind, and he inspired a lot of people. It looks like you're wearing that legacy pretty well yourself.”

  Dare’s death had hit her hard, and even worse, it had been ruled murder. That should never have happened to anyone. It took her some time to pull herself up and back. I’m glad that she did. Seeing her now proved just how far she’d come through it all.

  “I do what I can.” She laughed it off. “So, enough about me, what’s been going on with your end? You’ve been pretty quiet lately.”

  I looked down at my hands and flexed them. “Oh, you know. Same old day to day grind.”

  “I call BS. You’ve never had a day-to-day grind, Jake.” She was right. I had always been something of a free spirit. And to be fair, Dare had always been one to follow his own path, too. It must have been a family trait. At least on our dad’s side.

  “I’ve been traveling a lot, helping out where I’m needed.” I wasn’t quite in the same shape I had been, and that was to be expected. “Business is still business, but I’m training a few new people to watch the waters while I’m gone.” That was proving a task within itself. She didn’t need to hear me complain, though. “Trying to stay busy, you know me.”

  “Yes, I know you.” There was a kind of accusatory tone there, which was totally justifiable. “Are you thirsty, hungry? I put on a fresh pot of coffee just before you arrived.”

  “Thanks. That would be great.” I hadn’t eaten anything for a while now, and who was I to turn down a home-baked snack?

  “Still take it black with no frills?” She asked as she drifted out of the living room.

  “No other way to drink the stuff,” I answered her. It was nice that she remembered.

  As she walked into the kitchen, she noticed my duffle bag on the floor. It wasn’t like I was trying to hide it. There was a small package in hand-crafted paper stuffed into one of the side pockets. I saw Bridget smile to herself, and I wondered what she was thinking. That was a secret for later.

  There was a knock on the front door, and a new voice called from the other side. “Aunt Bridget! My arms are full! Can you open the door, please?”

  I was quicker than Bridget and hustled over to open it before she could get there. To our mutual surprise, I saw Haley, Bridget’s niece, and a longtime friend of mine.

  “Jake!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” Her voice toned high and excitedly. It was a good sound.

  “Acting a doorman. Times are tough,” I joked before sweeping in and taking most of the boxes and items from her overcrowded arms. This left me with a view of a pregnant Haley. “Wow, you’ve been busy.” I placed the boxes on the receiving bar and a few on the coffee table under a mirror. Whatever they were, they weren’t heavy, but a little cumbersome.

  “I know!” She walked in and settled herself into a chair as if she was very familiar
with this routine. “Twins. That’s what I get for remarrying at my age, right?” She was kidding, of course. She was glowing and looked happy and healthy. Her brown hair looked long but was pulled up into a messy bun. She wore what I could only assume was proper maternity clothes; an oversized white tee-shirt and floral leggings. “Anyway, how have you been? I didn’t know you were in the area.”

  Before I could answer her, Bridget did it for me as she walked out of the kitchen. “He only texted me last night. Otherwise, I would have told you.”

  When she re-entered the living room where we were, she had a tray with two coffee cups and a singular mug of hot cocoa. A tiny plate of homemade candy, something with nuts and peanut butter, completed the snacks. She passed the goods around as we all settled back into our seats and started up the conversation again.

  “I’m making my rounds to see friends and family. That time of year, you know,” I implied. I didn’t want to share all of my plans, mostly because I didn’t have them entirely fixed yet. “It’s been a while since Bridget and I could meet up without one of us having to rush off, so I’m taking advantage. And I needed a break after that Azores trip.”

  “Oh! The Azores!” Bridget cried in fond memory. “I haven’t been there in ages! I love those islands. They are so peaceful and sophisticated.” She spoke like an authority on the matter. “Just a perfect mix of so many people and cultures.”

  She smiled in remembrance, and I knew she had some pretty specific memories going on there. “Sorry, I just had some wonderful times there.”

  “I guess,” Haley smirked, but we all knew it was done with love. Haley had been there when Dare and Bridget had got exposed to the radiation. Back in the day, Haley had been their equipment developer and trusted intern. Now, she was doing the mother and wife thing, and on top of that, she was a lecturing professor for a local university.

  She was recently remarried, though I hadn’t been able to attend the wedding. The pictures Bridget had sent were great. Haley looked so happy in them, and her new husband adored her two kids. The beach ceremony was simple, and if I wasn’t mistaken, held right outside this house.

  “Dare and I spent our anniversary there once. I think it was the eleventh if memory serves. He got us a private tour of the Duke’s Garden. Oh, what’s it called?”

  “Jardim Duque da Terceira,” I answered. “Or the Duke of Terceira’s Garden. It’s still there and still beautiful. Dare always said how much you enjoyed it.”

  “Yes, that’s it,” Bridget recalled warmly. Instinctively, she glanced over at one of the framed photos of Dare that was placed nearby. Haley took the initiative and moved the conversation along.

  “That’s on my list of places to visit once I drop this anchor.” She repositioned herself to get more comfortable. “I’d love to get back into the circuit and travel again once we can safely do it.”

  Bridget nodded knowingly. “Well, you can just leave your babies here with me, and you and Ira can go jetting off to parts unknown. I’d be perfectly happy to babysit.”

  Haley’s musical laugh filled the room. “Newborn twins and Declan and Sarah? I don't even know how that’s going to work.”

  “Well, when you get ready, let me know. I’ll make a few calls and let the island prepare for the two of you. It’ll give them a chance, at least.” I sipped my coffee with a guilty smirk.

  “Ha, ha. The least that you can do is humor me and tell me about this last trip.” Haley drank from her cocoa mug. “Let me live vicariously through you until this double trouble is born.”

  Bridget piped up with some questions, coming back to the present. “I heard that the new trade agreements were benefiting the conservational efforts. Is that true?”

  “They are. And it looks like they’ve been able to secure a good amount of funding thanks to the… financing they acquired.” I cut that one short. No one needed to know that yet.

  “Funding? You mean the seizure of the---”

  I shook my head and answered Bridget’s question. “No, that’s not a problem anymore. Thankfully, the days of the Yabut terrorizing the area are gone.” I reassured them.

  “What’s the Yabut?” Haley inquired, suddenly intrigued by the whispered hint of a good story.

  “Oh, they were a small-time pirating ring hanging out in the area a few years ago.” I tried to play it down, but I knew that I’d already said too much. The expectant looks on the women’s faces left me no choice. “Okay, so you see, back in the day, Rosa, Doc, Xavier, and I were… guarding the coasts of the Azores because they’d been having some trouble with shipments being stolen and people going missing. So, naturally… we… checked it out.”

  Bridget smiled as she rushed back into the kitchen. “Don’t say another word until I get back. This story requires a refill and my full attention. I can just tell.”

  Chapter 1

  Arik

  “Tell me exactly what you told Hemez.” Kippy’s voice sounded like grating metal, and the young man didn’t dare look into her eyes as he responded to her. He knew that his mother had sent her to help him, but… this woman was a little scary.

  “I… I said… I said that we’d pay him when we got to the docks. That the captain was bringing me the money.” Arik tried not to sound too freaked out about all this. He tucked his hands into his cargo short’s pockets and looked at the asphalt slab that lined the outside area of this warehouse district. He did this to avoid her staring down at him.

  Kippy sighed, and even that sounded angry. “Alright, then. We’re going to go in there, and I’m going to explain why the plan has changed. And you? What are you going to do, Arik?” He knew that there could ever only be one answer.

  “I’m going to shut up.” And the seventeen-year-old would. He knew that he had gotten in over his head here. He and Mia had needed help to get out of this deal with Hemez. Arik’s mother, for whatever reason, had sent this lady to fix it. All they had to do was let her.

  The woman smiled and looked appeased. “Very good. And why is that?”

  Arik cleared his throat and looked up at her. Kippy was a tall, heavy-built woman who had blonde hair and disturbingly cold, hard, dark eyes. She didn’t look like a special agent, but that’s what Simon told Arik that she was. He hadn’t seemed to like her either, based on the way he’d mentioned her.

  “Because… Because if I don’t, you’ll shoot Mia in the head and make me watch.” Arik stopped himself from looking back at the car where Mia was. He didn’t want to draw any more attention to her if it could be helped. All they had wanted to do was to get off this island and be together. Why was that so tough?

  Kippy may have been bluffing about Mia, but Arik didn’t want to find out. The woman took out her gun and checked it. It was big, like the ones he’d seen in movies. Arik had never even held a gun. The Judge didn’t like them.

  Once Kippy checked their perimeter, Arik risked a glance back over at the running car where Mia and Simon were waiting for them. It was some weird little European model, a gold color, and he saw Mia waving gingerly at him from the front seat of the parked car. Simon was driving, but he didn’t look at them. Instead, his eyes were watching the empty lot they were waiting in. Arik believed that was because he was just disappointed in what they were doing.

  Kippy was dressed in a white button-down shirt and slacks. His mother had sent her, so he had figured that they could trust her. She was some sort of broker hired to get Arik out of a mess with the obtainment of fake IDs.

  “Let’s go.” Kippy tucked her gun into the back of her slacks and started to walk off toward the meeting point.

  They tread toward the building where Hemez did his business. It was on the back end of a bunch of rundown warehouses and storage trailers. The air was heavy and humid this evening, and a breeze sent the aroma of fresh salt and metal their way. This was the less beguiling part of the Azores Archipelago, near Portugal. The part Arik had found a liking for.

  When he had first started seeing Mia, he instantly knew tha
t they had to be together. He didn’t care how or about any of the practicalities. However, his mother had sent him to the Azores for a precise reason. Arik had become addicted to Adderall in his doctor’s attempt to help him. He had taken to buying it off of friends and also from not so friendly people to keep up the high he got. When his mother found out, she took it very seriously.

  “You need treatment, Arik,” she had told him, “And no distractions.” To avoid sullying his future endeavors, his mother had decided to send him overseas, somewhere nice but strict that produced the results she decided were a mark of success.

  He didn’t consider Mia a distraction, though. He adored her. And they had to be together, no matter what.

  Arik had never meant to get into so much trouble. And he’d never wanted Mia to be afraid or scared or anything like that. He just trusted the wrong person. Hemez was bad news. Mia and Arik hadn’t had too much experience with people like him and could only think of getting off this island without his mother finding out. That’s why Arik had needed the fake IDs, and that was why he’d asked Hemez for help. If only he’d had the money they’d promised him, none of this would have happened.

  Hemez hung out in a big room with a bunch of wooden crates stacked casually in every available space. He sat on them, set them up as tables, used them to hide goods, that sort of thing. The room had a concrete floor and flimsy tin walls. Bad stuff went on down here, which probably was why he liked it.

  Upon entering the unlit area, Kippy and Arik saw three men. Hemez was the one in the middle. He was wearing the satiny black jacket that he was known for and some multi-colored, tropical-themed cargo shorts. His dark hair was slicked back and plastered to his head with a gel or pomade.

  Arik saw Hemez watching Kippy as they entered the building. He had two new guys with him.

  Arik leaned over and whispered to Kippy. “That’s Hemez in the middle. But I don’t know the other two.”

  They looked unsavory. Much more so than Hemez, even. One wore brown pants and a red A-shirt, and his head was shaved. The other one had black pants and a black tee-shirt. He wore his long dark hair loose, and it covered most of his face. The bald one was smoking an American cigarette. Arik could smell it. Smokes from the Azores smelled different.