by Matt Lincoln
PROLOGUE
Small children laughed and shrieked as they ran between adults and larger children. On most days, anyone caught entering my bar under the drinking age would get a swift boot out the door. Not today. Christmas at Rolling Thunder was open to families in need, and the bar itself was closed.
“We have another turkey fresh off the spit,” Rhoda said as she walked over. She was Rolling Thunder’s manager and organizer extraordinaire. “Joey and her mom have more potatoes and cranberry sauce, and your little sailors are great servers.”
I adjusted my Rolling Thunder server’s apron, which had come loose for the third or fourth time. Rhoda rolled her eyes and fixed it herself.
“They’re not little,” I protested. “Those kids serve the United States Navy, and yes, they are awesome.”
“You just called them ‘kids,’” she said with a laugh. She gave the apron strings a strong yank from behind me, and I swear I lost an inch or three from my waist. “How did you get them off their ship for this?”
“I called in a favor.” I looked over to where Charlie and Jeff handed heaping plates to a family with careworn parents and four little ones. “It’s good PR for the Navy, and it’s good for everyone here.”
The sailors were Charlie, Jeff, Mackenzie, and Ty. They were about to ship out for an extended tour. They always visited the bar when they were in Miami to visit family, and we were going to miss them.
I headed out to the bar’s patio, where two spits were going, one for turkeys, and one for ham. Volunteers carved the meat while others kept an eye on the children who played and made chalk drawings on the patio.
I picked up a knife to help carve when a familiar voice called my name.
“Hey Marston, I hear you’re telling stories about me.” The deep voice rolled out from the open wall into the building.
“Lamarr Birn, how the hell are you?” I exclaimed. I handed off the carving knife and let the gentle giant bear-hug me. “You’re right and wrong about the stories.”
“Is that so?” His toothy grin made me smile. “I ran into some Navy recruits a few weeks ago who heard my name while I was working a case. They said that your MBLIS stories are making the rounds, and they asked if I’m the same me.”
“I’ve been telling stories, yeah.” I shook my head. “They’re about my cases, and you might be mentioned once in a while. Maybe.”
I winked at Charlie, who had walked up behind Birn. Charlie’s eyebrows went so high I thought they’d touch his scalp. He waved his friends over and whispered to them.
“They noticed,” Birn spoke in a quiet voice without looking back. “Guess I better get an apron and help those youngsters serve dinner.”
I put my hand on his shoulder, which was a good hand higher than mine. “You don’t have to do that. You’re an honored guest, and you can grab a plate.”
He patted his belly. “I already ate…”
Birn left off as a commotion arose near the pool tables. Adults cleared kids away from the ruckus as a pair of angry men hurled obscenities at each other.
I sighed and headed over. Birn joined me, and it felt good to have an old buddy at my side.
“Hey, hey,” I called out as I approached the arguing men. “There are kids here, guys. Let’s tone it down.”
The man on the left reeked of Budweiser. He pointed to his antagonist. “This creep shouldn’t be here. My girl has a restraining order.” Bud directed a significant look at a thin woman with dishwater blond hair who stood by the darkened bar. “Can’t you see how scared she is?”
She hunched her shoulders and turned away.
“Restraining order, my ass,” the other guy yelled. This man stank of too much Old Crow. “You forced her to lie about me so you could keep her to yourself.”
“All of you outside,” I ordered. “We’ll settle this without making more of a scene in front of the children.”
Bud and Crow both turned on me.
“Mind your own damn business,” Crow snarled.
“This is my business.” I pointed to the front door. “We’ll sort this out there.” I glared at Crow. “If you’re violating an order of protection, I’m calling the police.”
“That order expired months ago,” he said. “I have every right to be here.”
“Only if I say so.” I moved closer to Crow, and he stepped back. “Now, move it.” I turned my ire on Bud. “You too, pal.”
“I ain’t going nowhere.” Bud crossed his arms and planted his feet. “I brought my girl in for a nice dinner, and this asshole had to show his ugly face—”
Crow took a swing at Bud, but I grabbed his arm and pinned it behind his back. Birn stepped in and hovered over Bud, who squared off. Too much beer had turned Bud’s brain into a frothy slush.
“You assholes stay out of this,” Bud hollered.
Birn sighed. He stood a good eight inches taller than Bud, and anyone with half an operating brain could see that Birn was all muscle.
“Outside,” Birn rumbled.
That got the young woman’s attention. Although she still shook like a palm tree in a hurricane, she came over.
“We’re going outside now, right, guys?” Her timid voice was like a stab in the heart. One or both of these bastards had hurt her. “We don’t need to be causing no trouble.”
“Shut up, Tanya,” Bud shouted.
“That’s enough.” Birn took Bud by the back of the upper arm, where there happened to be a nerve cluster that would make the strongest man yelp if it was twisted hard enough. Birn knew just how to twist. “March.”
I tugged at the arm I held behind Crow’s back to direct him out when something hit the back of my head.
“What the—”
“You let go of my brother!” A large woman with larger red hair wielded her purse as if ready to deliver another blow.
Crow took advantage of my surprise and pulled free. He launched himself at Bud, which forced Birn to let go. Crow’s sister took aim at Birn until he crossed his arms and shook his head.
“Rhoda, make sure all the kids are out of here,” I called out.
“Already on it,” she answered. True to her word, there were hardly any children left in the space. Plenty tried to get a look in from the patio, though, until a flash of red and white stole their attention. Thank God, our friend Mike… er, Santa Claus… arrived on the patio half an hour earlier than planned.
That settled, Birn and I tried to separate the drunkards, but they grappled harder. When we finally got the two untangled, they turned on us. Crow punched Birn in the belly, but Birn saw it coming. He tightened his abs so that the weak-ass drunk’s punch bounced off.
Bud only waited long enough to see what his frenemy was up to before trying a sloppy roundhouse kick that he must’ve picked up in an action movie. I blocked and toppled him over in time to see Birn shove Crow to the floor.
“Stay there,” he said to both of them. He turned to me. “Do you keep zip-ties for unrulies?”
“Same spot Mike always did,” I told him.
Within minutes, we had the troublemakers trussed and stuffed out front in time for the police. Crow’s sister dragged her feet on her way out. I had the feeling she was disappointed that she didn’t get to use the purse on anyone else. She was lucky I didn’t say a word about it to the police.
A social worker joined the group out front and promised to make sure Tanya was safe for the night. By the time Birn and I went back inside, order was restored. True to his word, he’d arrived fully intending to help serve Christmas dinner to folks who might not get a good meal otherwise.
Two hours later, we closed the doors and cleaned the mess. The leftovers were packaged for distribution at a soup
kitchen, which some of the volunteers left to deliver. The sailor “kids” stuck around like I figured they would, and Rhoda turned the lights on at the bar as they settled in. She served drinks while I had a quiet minute with my friend.
I showed Birn the empty stool we kept at the bar with a sign that read “Reserved.” The stool was the sole holdover from the days when the place was the ignobly named Mike’s Tropical Tango Hut. The aforementioned Mike now sat a few stools down, still in his Santa outfit.
“That’s where he used to sit, alright,” Birn said with a nod. He touched a bullet hole that marred the vinyl-covered cushion and chuckled. “I wonder what Robbie would say if he knew I’m with the FBI now.”
“Hard telling.” I laughed and moved down a seat to let Birn sit next to the empty stool.
“Is this the part where he tells you a story?” Birn asked my little fan club.
“Yes, sir,” Charlie answered. The others nodded in turn. “He promised to tell us the story that went with that little painting.”
Charlie pointed to a twelve by twelve canvas on a shelf above the liquor bottles. The painting was of a bubble under the sea. Two adults and two children stood within the bubble as reef life swam around them.
“I remember that case,” Birn said in a soft tone. “Sylvia and I were there for it, too.”
“We had all hands on deck for a little while there,” I agreed.
Rhoda slipped me a whiskey glass with Four Roses neat, one of my favorites. As was our custom, she delivered one, upside down, to Robbie’s empty seat. I saluted her with the glass and then looked around.
“Tonight,” I began, “I’m going to tell you about a hotel that was swallowed by the tide.”
CHAPTER 1
Alice traced her fingers along the thick, curved pane that held back the ocean. Outside the pane, coral polyps swayed in the sheltered current. These were young polyps hand-seeded in the porous sections of a rusted 1956 Chevy. She only knew what year the car was thanks to the brochures Mr. Zhu Wei Sheng Shawn’s secretary had passed around.
The Dragon Tide hotel was about to have its grand opening, and Mr. Zhu had invited her family to be the first to stay in one of the two underwater suites. They were seventeen feet below the surface, and yet the glass tunnel that led to the suites felt anything but claustrophobic. After the opening, all hotel guests would have passes to tour the Seascape Tunnel. A lucky few with money to burn would get to enter the suites. Her family had that money, to be sure, but the two upcoming nights in the suite were on owner Mr. Zhu’s dime. They were about to see suites for the first time but stopped before the suites to appreciate the Seascape Tunnel attraction.
Sunlight sparkled through the water, which lit the tunnel in shifting dapple patterns along the floor. According to the brochure, the Dragon Tide hotel had underwater spotlights for evenings and cloudy days. The water outside wouldn’t always have the crystal clarity of a curated aquarium, but other than the artificial reef, it was nature in the wild. Visitors never knew what they might see.
“The suites have privacy, yes?” her yéyé, Liu Xiaotong John, asked in Cantonese. He was in from Hong Kong, while her parents, born in New York City, had flown in from there.
Mr. Zhu’s cousin, Zhu David, nodded. “Yes. The bedrooms and living areas have ceilings and walls so no one can see from above or through the Seascape’s tunnel. The viewing areas permit guests to see a panorama of marine animals from the privacy of their suites. In addition, the only divers allowed in the reef are employees who clean and perform maintenance between guests.”
It sounded like the designers had thought of everything.
Yéyé looked toward the outlines of the suites through the water between them and the tunnel. Alice noticed one of his two bodyguards sneak a look in the same direction. Her parents made no attempt to disguise their delight. Even though Alice was as American as anybody, she expected her parents to show a little more decorum in front of Yéyé and the other business people, especially given her father’s place as Yéyé’s son, the heir-apparent to an international operation that she didn’t care to think about.
David led Alice’s family and bodyguards to a locked door in an alcove of the tunnel. With a swipe of his secure keycard, he showed them through to a V-shaped branch in the Seascape Tunnel. Each branch had a hotel suite at the end. Alice spied the mixed-materials sculpture reef base that sat in an area that was like a courtyard between the suites.
David continued in Cantonese. “You will be staying in the room to the right.” He made a gentle, open-handed gesture in that direction. “This is to honor Mr. Liu, who guides his business and family with blessings from his right hand.”
Alice rolled her eyes. Her grandfather guided people, alright, but she wouldn’t Yéyé’s guidance a blessing. She was present only to make respects to her family patriarch and had already informed everyone that she had pressing work to attend to following the tour… anything to avoid her mother’s constant complaints about having no grandchildren. The last thing she needed was for her mother to cry that Alice was almost too old to have babies.
The door to the suite had an opaque blue acrylic layer with white swirls to emulate ocean currents. This opened to a family gathering room that was a spacious version of the Seascape Tunnel. A black leather sectional sofa took one side of the room, while a television and other electronics were housed in a reclaimed wood entertainment center that curved halfway up the rounded glass ceiling. Why anyone would want to watch television when surrounded by the beauty outside the glass was beyond Alice’s comprehension.
“This suite can accommodate a party of eight,” David boasted. “Arrangements could be made to increase it to ten, but the sleeping quarters would be crowded.”
Someone rushed in behind the family. Alice turned and smiled. Her family’s secretary of several years panted as though he’d run from a monster. His ruddy cheeks stood out from his pale skin.
“Peter, it is good of you to join us,” her grandfather said in near-flawless English. “Have you a reason to be so late?”
“Apologies, Mr. Liu,” Pete Patrone gasped. “I got caught in traffic behind an accident.”
Alice’s father marched over to Pete and gestured with his open hand.
“Have you no courtesy for my father?” Ken demanded as he dropped his hand and stepped closer.
“I couldn’t get around the accident,” Pete insisted. He moved back a hair as Ken closed the space between them. “I did my best, Mr. Liu.”
“A simple phone call or text would have been sufficient,” her grandfather observed.
Pete looked down. “I left my phone in my room,” he confessed.
“This had better not become a trend,” Ken snarled.
Alice had been the subject of that snarl more times than she cared to count. It was one of many reasons she’d moved to Florida for university and grad school. A glance at her mother’s narrowed eyes reinforced her need to keep a distance between herself and her parents. Mei rarely said much outside of the home, but behind closed doors, she had plenty to bitch about.
“I’m feeling a little closed in,” Alice said to take the focus off of Pete. Her parents had everything to do with her sudden need for fresh air. “I’ll go upstairs with Pete to get the phone.” At her mother’s disdainful snort, Alice gave her a saccharine smile and switched to Cantonese. “I’ll get your bags ready, Mother. See you upstairs.”
“Use this to return to the suite at any time, Miss Liu,” David told her. He dug two keycards out from his blazer’s inner pocket and handed one each to Alice and Pete.
Alice dipped her head in a slight bow, as did Pete, and left the suite. Once they were out to the Seascape Tunnel, Alice stopped to take a few deep breaths. Anger spiked through her heart. She’d been in Miami for years, and yet when the family visited, she turned into that helpless twelve-year-old who learned about the family’s shadowy business interests.
“Are you okay?” Pete asked.
“Yeah. You know
how it is.” She smiled at him. “How are Maria and the baby?”
Pete matched her smile. They’d become friends during his service to her family, but nothing more. In fact, Alice had played matchmaker by hooking him up with one of her friends a while back. Now, he was married with a young baby.
“Penelope is doing well,” he told her as they wandered down the corridor. “She’s gained weight and is meeting her milestones. It’s a miracle.”
“It sure is.” Alice gave him a quick hug. “Come with me. I have a gift for your princess.”
On the way out of the Seascape Tunnel, Alice felt the tension roll off of her shoulders, as if the ebb and flow outside the glass tunnel were washing the negativity away. When she got to the end, she stopped and touched her hand to the wide panel between glass and concrete, where the hotel’s foundation welcomed its guests back into its heart. The feeling passed with a shiver that she couldn’t explain.
The elevator took them up to the presidential suite on the twenty-sixth floor. Alice’s parents and grandfather had flown in early, and Mr. Zhu showed them gracious hospitality by opening up the brand-new suites nearly a week in advance of the promised stay in the underwater suite. Alice lived nearby and didn’t need, or want, to stay, but she had her own card.
“Come to my family’s rooms when you’re done,” Alice told Pete when he stopped at the door to the basic room where he’d been staying. “The baby’s gift is in there. I’ll leave the door open for you.”
She left Pete to his task and made her way into the presidential suite. Most people would find the luxury of the rooms awe-inspiring. Calacatta marble flooring gave the main room a bright but warm feel that was enhanced by lush area rugs with palm tree designs to coordinate with potted palms in the corners of the main room. The ecru leather upholstery looked comfortable, or like it would be comfortable once broken in. Alice appreciated the tropical aesthetic, but excess always made her feel out of place.
Baby Penelope’s gift was on a counter in the kitchenette. Alice had crocheted a small afghan for her friend’s baby. With her work in a rare architectural niche, she rarely had the time or excuse to crochet anymore, so making the gift had been a guilty pleasure.