I thought about that for a moment and realized she was right. My dream involved a lot more than a solution to hacking into Hal’s computer – it would be best if I skipped over the part involving Linda smothering me with kisses. “I’ll take your pontoon for a ride down the lake and park by Hal’s house. I doubt his internet is secured, so I’ll simply connect to his computer through his router. Then I’ll search his webpage cache and cookies for usernames and passwords. I can pack it up and leave once I get his email ID and password.”
Megan gave me her Fred impersonation: the dumb look he gives me when he doesn’t understand me. “Right. Clear as mud. What good will his email ID do you?”
“I’ll bet my next paycheck there’s an email in there that will connect Bennet and the drug dealers. And if we’re really lucky, something to prove Bennet killed Mike and Bill.”
Megan laughed. Not the hiccup inducing laugh of something really funny, but the Doubting Thomas kind. “Ah, Porky. Did you forget? You don’t have any paychecks?”
Fred and I went on our little boat ride later that day. Megan stayed behind with our mother, who wouldn’t go; she never learned to swim and didn’t trust boats. I didn’t dare ask Taylor to tag along on my intrusion into his father’s computer, and Kevin was attached to Taylor at the hip. That left Fred as my only passenger.
The boat had been sitting in the dock since before Mike’s death. Its pontoons had a thick coat of algae at the water line, and I didn’t know if it had any gas or if it would even start. I took the keys from under the seat. Meg said Mike hid them there because he was always losing them, and I tried to start the motor. Nothing happened, not even a click. “So much for a three-hour tour, Gilligan,” I said to Fred.
Gilligan started barking. I looked in the direction he was focused on. The outboard motor had a little round squeeze-bulb that had to be pumped to get gas to the motor. Fred must have thought it was a ball and wanted me to throw it for him. “Not now, Freddie,” I said. “And if you’re trying to tell me to squeeze it, you’re dumber than I thought. There’s an electrical problem not a fuel problem.”
Nonetheless, I went over and squeezed the bulb. Then I saw the cable next to the battery. It was disconnected. “Maybe you should be the skipper,” I said and started the motor after connecting the battery and squeezing the gas bulb three times.
We cruised out of the cove and onto the main channel. Fred acted like a puppy trying to catch the spray coming over the bow. I guess he was just a dog after all. For a while there, I thought he had more sense than me. You couldn’t pay me to drink this water. Unlike the clear blue lakes and rivers back home, where you could see trout ten feet down, this water was the color of sewer water with visibility no more than three inches. There could be a shark down there, and you would never know it until it bit you. Water quality aside, I did have to marvel at how peaceful this end of the lake was compared to the hustle at the dam. We barely saw another boat, and when we did, the people never failed to wave. I was beginning to wish Hal and Amy lived further away when I saw their dock up ahead.
Maybe bringing Fred along on my first felony wasn’t such a good idea. We were getting ready to tie up to Hal’s dock when I realized Fred might start barking. I knew Amy would be at work, but I wasn’t so sure about Hal. Then I saw the sign on the dock and quickly pushed off. “THIS PROPERTY IS UNDER VIDEO SURVIELLANCE,” the sign read. It could have been one of those fake warnings to scare away an intruder; I couldn’t see any cameras or wiring, but I couldn’t afford to take the chance. With state of the art technology, it was possible to hide a wireless camera almost anywhere.
“What now, Fred? I don’t have a plan C.” Fred responded with his usual bark, and we pulled away from the dock and headed down stream. Although it was hot and humid, the wind and spray of the water felt good. I decided to mix business with pleasure and do a little cruising. Maybe I’d get lucky and find the Tracker boat in someone’s dock.
The lake had another thing going for it that Colorado waters didn’t. There was a bar or waterfront restaurant every few miles. I pulled the boat into the dock of a lakeside restaurant and tied her off. Fred stayed on the boat while I went in for my afternoon libation.
The bartender was an older woman who was missing most of her teeth. “Afternoon, stranger. What can I get ya?”
On closer examination I decided she had to be at least ten years younger than I first thought. She wasn’t all that bad looking either. Given a set of dentures, she would be considered attractive. “Coors Light, Please.”
“So what do you think of your Broncos now?” she asked while reaching under the counter for my beer. “Looks like they forgot to show up yesterday.” I forgot I was wearing my Broncos hat, and this was Chief’s territory. A quick look around the bar assured me I was in no immediate danger. There was only one other customer, an old man with a cane leaning against the bar. I figured I could probably take him if I had to.
“Tell me about it,” I answered. “They can’t seem to do anything right since Elway retired.”
She wiped off my bottle with a rag that looked like it had been used to clean the floor. It reminded me of the same hygiene I observed at the Pig’s Roast. Maybe they used river water to clean their towels. “Two bucks, unless you want to run a tab,” she said, handing me my beer.
“No tab, but can I get a couple of burgers and a six pack to go? I don’t want to leave my dog down there too long. He’s liable to go for a swim any minute.”
“Sure thing, Sweetie. I’m also the cook today, so if you need another beer while I’m gone, just ask Clarence,” she gestured toward the end of the bar.
The old guy who had been watching us got off his stool at the mention of his name, then limped over and took a stool next to me. “Saw you pull up in that pontoon down there. I had a friend with one just like it,” he said. “Clarence is my name. Clarence Bukowski. I don’t think I’ve seen you around much.”
“Mine’s Jake. Thanks, but the boat belongs to my sister. It was her husband’s before he died. Maybe you know her. Megan Carver. She has a house less than a couple of miles from here, on the lake.”
“I told Carrie you was Meg’s brother. Didn’t I, Carrie?” he called out to the barmaid. But she was already out of hearing range or had just decided to ignore him. “Me and your dad used to fish all over the lake in that boat before we both got too sick. That’s when he gave it to Mike. Bet you didn’t know there’s a live well under the front seat. Course we never put no minners in there, just our beer. I’m sure gonna miss Marvin.”
Then I made the connection. “Bukowski? Do you know a Linda Bukowski?”
“Fraid so. She’s my granddaughter. Been one wild ride with that girl, I’ll tell you. But deep down, she’s really a good kid. Why you ask? She leave you with a broken heart?”
I looked at Clarence and could see a slight resemblance to Linda. He had the same short-stocky frame as his granddaughter and the same dark eyes. “No. Nothing like that. I only met her a couple of times is all.” It didn’t seem appropriate to tell Clarence I once had the hots for his granddaughter. “Heard she went to California. How’s she doing out there?”
“Oh, she’s on her way back already. Went out with some construction worker who left her for a hooker in Las Vegas. We had to send her the bus fare to get back home,” he answered.
Before I had a chance to find out when Linda would be back, Carrie came over with a brown bag and a six-pack. “No charge, Jake,” she said. “I’m sorry to hear about your father, and tell Meg that I’m praying for her.”
I forgot about Linda instantly. Carrie’s words put a lump in my throat. “Thank you, Carrie,” I said. “Thank you very much.” And I took my burgers and beer and headed toward the door.
I returned to the boat a little too late. Fred had jumped out and swam to shore. He was giving a fisherman a shower as he shook the water off. “Fred!” I yelled. “Get over here.”
After apologizing to the fisherman and offering him one of my b
eers, I gave Fred his burger, and we got back on the boat. Once out and away from the docks, I gunned the motor and headed for home at the breakneck speed of fifteen miles an hour.
Fred was out on the front deck of the boat again, biting the spray as it came over the bow. I was wishing life could be so simple for us humans when I heard the siren behind me. A Missouri water patrol boat was flashing his blue light and signaling me to come to a stop.
“Something wrong, officer?” I asked after he tied up alongside.
“I stopped you because of the dog up front,” he answered. “It’s not legal to have a passenger outside the fence when the boat is in motion.”
Fred started to growl, so I quickly opened the gate for him before he jumped in the water to attack the cop. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I said, grabbing Fred by the collar.
The officer didn’t try to board my boat. Either it was standard operating procedure for them to stay on their own vessel, or Fred had scared him off. “Can I see your registration and boating certificate?”
“Boating certificate? What’s that?”
“Missouri requires a boating safety course for anyone born after January first nineteen eighty-four. Looks like you won’t need that. Your driver’s license will do,” he answered.
Fred sat at the side rail watching our new visitor while I fumbled with my wallet. I gave the officer my license then went searching for the boat’s registration. I couldn’t find it. “It’s my brother-in-law’s boat, or was. He died last month, so now I guess it belongs to my sister. I have no idea where he put the registration.”
He pointed to the key hanging from the shifter on the side of the boat. “Look in there,” he said while keeping one eye on Fred. “That bobber holding the key is meant to keep the registration dry.”
Sure enough, it was where he said it would be. “That’s a clever idea,” I said, handing him the folded piece of paper.
He removed his sunglasses and studied the document for a moment. Then, without putting his glasses back on, he looked at me. “I thought that boat looked familiar. I was at your sister’s dock last week when the sheriff pulled that body out of the water.”
“Then you know Sergeant Bennet?” I asked.
His eyes seemed to soften. “Chuck? He’s a friend of yours too?”
I decided to press my luck a little further. “You could say we know each other. I found something by my dock that one of his deputies must have lost last week. Have you seen him out on his Tracker today by any chance?”
“No, but I can check when I run your registration.” He left the side of his boat and picked up a microphone from the helm. I could hear him calling in a check on his radio. Then he started writing something on a pad he had under his dash. Had he seen through my lie that easily?
“I couldn’t raise Chuck, and your boat checks out. So it looks like you’re okay,” he said when he came back to my side of his boat. “You and your family have been through enough, so I’ll let you go with a warning.”
He had me sign the warning then untied his boat. “I’ll let Chuck know you’re looking for him, and take care of that beautiful dog,” he said over his shoulder while pulling away.
* * *
When I returned to the dock, Megan’s realtor was putting the finishing touches on her ‘For Sale’ sign. “You must be Jake,” she said after I stopped the motor and started tying the boat to the dock cleats. “I’m Janet. Megan didn’t mention what a handsome brother she had.”
She caught me off guard. It had been some time since a woman hit on me and not the other way around. She had to be at least ten years older than me, but she still had her looks and figure. Though, I could see they came at a price. Her choice of knee-high shorts and low-cut blouse may not have been professional, but they weren’t cheap either. “Glad to meet you, Janet,” I replied, wondering what she paid for tanning sessions and her silicone breasts.
“Megan says you talked her into listing the house. I hope you don’t expect a finder’s fee,” she said with a laugh. “Well, maybe dinner. I’m told I cook a really good Boeuf en Daube.”
“A what?” I asked.
She laughed again. This time it seemed genuine. “Pot roast,” she answered.
“You sell the house, and I’ll buy you dinner,” I said. I didn’t mention it would have to be from the dollar menu because of my finances.
Before she had a chance to accept my generous offer, Fred saw a stick float by and decided to show his retrieving ability. Naturally, he chose to do a belly flop and splash water all over us. Megan’s new realtor didn’t seem to mind, nor did she notice her hard-earned tan streaking down her legs. I guess I overestimated the cost of her youth. Even spray-on tans didn’t wash off that easily. Fred came back with his stick, but we had beaten him to the lift before he could shake the water off. He would have to take the stairs, or my sister’s new realtor would be a zebra before we reached the top.
“What’s her chance of a quick sale?” I asked on the way up.
“Not good, I’m afraid. This market is tough on higher-end homes. I’ll put it on the MLS of course, but our best bet is to run some ads in the Kansas City and St. Louis papers.”
We reached the top, and Megan was there, waiting with her arms folded. My mother and the boys were sitting at the table eating lunch. “Where the hell have you been?” Megan said. “I’ve been trying to get you on your damn phone all afternoon.”
“Sorry. The phone kept losing its signal, so I turned it off. Guess I forgot to turn it back on. Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Mom wants to go home. We need your help with the big rug in the great-room. I told her she could have it and anything else she wants.”
Janet must have realized it was time to leave. “Well, Megan, I need to get back to the office and get started on this listing. I’ll have someone come back for pictures.” Then turning toward the lake, she said: “What a wonderful view you have from here, Megan. That picture alone should sell the house.”
“Mike used to say it was a view to die for,” Megan said, lowering her eyes. Then she noticed Janet’s legs. “Did you fall in the water?” she asked.
“No. Jake’s dog jumped in after a stick and splashed a little water on me. One of the hazards of my profession,” she answered with a forced laugh.
“I’m sorry, Janet. He can be as big a pain as his master at times. Come with me, and I’ll get you some dry clothes,” she said as she led her realtor into the house.
Kevin put his hand over his mouth and kicked Taylor under the table while pointing at Janet’s legs when she walked passed him. Pieces of Taylor’s sandwich went flying from his mouth just as Megan and Janet closed the door.
“Are you alright, Taylor?” Mother asked.
“Sorry, Mrs. Martin. It must have gone down the wrong way.”
Chapter 13
Since the rug wouldn’t fit in Meg’s Jeep, Taylor let us use his truck. He couldn’t drive after losing his license, which meant I had the pleasure of listening to Mother complain all the way into Truman. She said it made her look like Grandma Clampet from the Beverly Hillbillies. She could have ridden with Megan and the boys in air-conditioned comfort, but she didn’t want to wait for them to get ready.
The little house my parents had bought on Sycamore Street had been sitting empty since the funeral. Except for the overgrown grass, the house didn’t look that bad. I pulled into the driveway and went around to the passenger side to help my mother when I saw a woman with hair the color of snow beat me to it. “You must be Jacob?” she said, blocking me from helping my Mother out of the truck. Taylor’s truck had a lift-kit which made it impossible for my mother to get in or out without help.
“I’m Anita, your mother’s next-door neighbor. I’m so sorry to hear about your father. He was such a dear man. And so helpful. He would always cut my lawn when he cut his, but now look at it. I’m going to miss him. Did you know…?”
“Are you going to help me out of this pile of junk, Jacob?�
�
Anita stopped talking and stepped aside. I quickly moved in and offered my mother my hand. “Thank you, Anita,” I said, hoping she hadn’t taken offense.
Anita ignored Mother’s rudeness and kept on talking while I struggled to get my mother down from her perch. “How are you doing, Hazel? I hope you forgive me for missing Marvin’s service. You know I adored him and wouldn’t have missed it for anything; but my sister had come down with a terrible case of shingles, and I was in Kansas City. I do hope you understand – don’t you? I feel so bad after all he did for me.”
“I’ll let you two catch up,” I said and started for the house. “I’ll go check out the air conditioner and get it going. It must be over a hundred in there with all the windows closed.” It was my excuse to get away. I knew from experience not to get involved when my mother, or anyone her age, gets caught up in the disease of the week conversation.
I could feel something was wrong when I put the key in the door lock. It was one of those feelings that can’t be explained, but all of a sudden, I had a terrible sense that someone had been here. My fear was confirmed when I opened the door. The house had been ransacked. From the doorway, I could see the couch cushions had been cut and stuffing was everywhere. “Mother, you better come and look at this!”
My mother turned toward me and asked, “What do you mean, Jake?” Anita kept on talking as though nothing was wrong. Mother left her in mid-sentence and walked briskly toward me.
“Oh my god! What happened?” she asked after she walked past me and into the house.
“It looks like you’ve been robbed, Hazel.” Anita had come in behind us. “I better go home and call the police. Make sure you don’t touch anything. My cousin in Springfield had a break-in, and the police were so upset with him when they found he cleaned up before they had a chance to get there. But they made him wait two days before they…”
“It’s okay, Anita,” I said. I’ll call from my cell phone, but you better take my mother and go to your house while we wait for them.”
01-A View to Die For (2012) Page 14