Coastal Fury Boxset (1-3)

by Matt Lincoln

  “I didn’t know you were in the neighborhood, Detective.” I gave Tessa a hand up as she’d complied halfway through the young cop’s order to kneel. “Is anyone after that boat?”

  “It got away too fast,” Rucker growled. “Coast Guard has a cutter close by, but folks are saying it’s a white speedboat with two people aboard.”

  “That shortens the list of suspects,” Tessa said with an eye roll as she brushed off her skirt. She looked around. “Nobody got hurt?”

  Rucker shook his head. “No reports of injuries.” He looked at me. “This related to any of your cases?”

  “I thought we left the swath of destruction in Belize,” I told him, “but yeah, I think those are the people we’re after. They know we’re getting close.” I glanced up at the high-rises behind the tree line and boardwalk. “Have your guys see if they can find any video of the boaters. Send it to TJ Warner at my office.”

  Rucker’s long-suffering sigh would’ve amused me if it wasn’t so important to put a finger on our perps. It was interesting that they hadn’t done anything to hurt anyone intentionally but me… and Tessa.

  “At least they didn’t use an RPG today,” Tessa noted in a weary tone.

  “RPG?” Rucker echoed. His rheumy eyes widened, something that I’d never seen before. “Your subjects have RPGs?”

  “They did in Belize.” I walked back to the beach where crime scene tape and lights were erected around the area where the bullets hit. Tessa and Rucker followed. “The good news for you is that they haven’t targeted civilians other than Tessa so far.”

  “So far?” Rucker said. “What’s the threat level for anyone not you?”

  “Probably low, but we’re still trying to determine their motive,” I admitted. “I’ll make sure to alert Metro if we learn of any credible threats.”

  While waiting to give a statement, I texted my team to let them know we weren’t going to Mike’s. They shouldn’t have been able to track us to that random spot on the beach. Unless they did…

  “Rucker, I have to go. We’ll send you our statement later.” I touched Tessa’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  I took her back to my replacement car in the well-lit parking lot. Insects buzzed around the day-bright LED street lights. I had Tessa stand back as I went to the trunk of the car and hoped that the mechanics had moved my things to the new car. Without glitter.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with a frown. “Is something wrong with the car?” She backed up and lowered her voice so I barely heard her over the ambient noise of the surf a block away and cars passing on the street in the other direction. “Ethan, is there a bomb on the car?”

  “Unlikely, but I want you to stay back all the same.” I hoped there wasn’t one. I liked my body in one piece. “I think either they put a tracker on my car or hacked my GPS.” She drifted closer as I pulled my Mag-Lite out of the duffle the mechanics stashed in there for me. “Seriously, Tessa, if I’m wrong, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She relented and walked to the other side of the parking lot and stepped behind a minivan as I checked the grill and under the bumper, all the obvious areas. Next were the wheel wells and undercarriage.

  Now, I’ve never been accused of being fussy about my clothes, but I happened to have a new pair of khakis on that day. My luck was that the parking lot had been recently sealcoated, probably that week. In the Florida heat, that stuff can leave nasty marks on your clothes. To check the wheel wells and undercarriage, I had to get to the ground. By the time I found the unsub’s little device, my pants were ruined. When I stood and held the device up, Tessa ran over to see.

  “They knew we were here,” I told her. “I’m thinking they drove and then stole a boat from the marina over there.” I pointed to the west, where there were plenty of boats to jack.

  “You just got this car.” She frowned and shook her head. “When would they have…?” Her brows lifted, and her mouth formed a perfectly kissable “o” of surprise. “They could’ve followed us from your office, or maybe they were watching the Lemons’ home.”

  I nodded as I dialed Diane’s cell. She picked up right away.

  “I just heard about the shooting,” she said. “Any leads?”

  “They tracked us. I think they’re watching the Lemon house.”

  “Okay. I’ll get some of our guys and a uni on it.” She spoke to someone in the background. “I wouldn’t go to Mike’s tonight if I were you.”

  “I canceled. I’m taking Tessa home with me.” At Tessa’s longing glance toward the restaurant, I added, “After we get some take out. The woman is famished.”

  “I don’t want to ride in that car,” Tessa said. “I’ll gladly wait for my takeout with all those officers still around than be followed again.”

  “I’ll have Birn meet you two over there,” Diane decided. “He’s closest, and he can drop you off at the marina.”

  “Thanks, boss. Better get this car towed and inspected,” I added. “Just in case.”

  “They love you in the garage, Ethan.” Diane laughed. “Adore you.”

  “Ask them about glitter bombs,” I told her. “Then say they love me. Or Holm. Definitely Holm.”

  “What?”

  “Ask him. Talk to you soon.” I ended the call before I got anyone in trouble. Let them blame Holm, not me, for outing their shenanigans.

  28

  Birn invited himself along when he dropped us off at my houseboat. I appreciated the ride, but I’d hoped for some private time with Tessa, especially after the chaos at the beach. Birn was the kind of guy who could usually take a hint, but he came right in and plopped on my couch.

  “I didn’t know to order you anything,” Tessa told him.

  “Not a problem. I had a snack a little while ago.” His phone pinged, he checked it, and then he nodded. “Fact is, Director Ramsey asked me to hang around for a bit, make sure you don’t have any trouble. We don’t know that you weren’t followed again. Not that I’d let anyone track my car.”

  I tossed a dish towel at him as I crossed behind him. “Smartass.”

  “Just following orders.”

  That explained it. I wasn’t sure that Diane was thrilled to have one of her agents in bed with the embedded journalist who was foisted onto our investigation. Now that said journalist had been endangered multiple times, it made sense to put more agents on her watch.

  “Feel free to raid my fridge if you get hungry,” I suggested. “Unless you’re only staying for a bit?”

  “Haven’t decided yet.” He put his elbow on the back of the couch and turned to face the kitchen. “Are you trying to get me to leave?”

  Tessa’s cheeks reddened, and she had to muffle a laugh to keep from spitting out a mouthful of her fully loaded gyro. I was about to say something, but someone knocked at my dockside door. Tessa froze, and I reached toward my holster.

  Birn held up a hand. “I’ll get it.” He crossed the room while at ease and checked through the little curtain on my door. “Hey, what do you know?”

  He opened the door, and in walked Muñoz, followed by Bonnie and Clyde. They flowed into my tiny living space as if they’d been expected. I looked over at Birn, and he shrugged with a coy smile.

  “Lamarr, what’s going on?” I asked in my most patient tone. “I don’t remember inviting people over here.”

  “You canceled on Mike’s party,” Muñoz informed me in a solemn tone. “Getting bullets sprayed at you will do that, but Mike made it clear that this is an unacceptable development.”

  “Mike…?”

  My phone buzzed with a text message from Holm.

  Come up to the parking lot.

  I excused myself and went ashore. Between houseboaters like me and vacationers on other boats, the parking area was filled in for the evening. It took a minute to find Holm waving under one of the aging light poles. Mike Birch, our friend and the proprietor of Mike’s Tropical Tango Hut, stood next to him and gestured for me to move my ass.

  I d
id not quicken my pace if only to annoy my friends. When I got close, I saw Holm’s new, blue Mitsubishi Lancer and busted out laughing.

  “Are you serious?” I asked between laughs. “Those kids in Barbados really got to you, did they?”

  “I told him he’s too old for this foolishness.” Mike lightly punched Holm in the arm. “He swears it’s just for fun.”

  “It’s a 2015 Final Edition Evolution,” Holm said with pride. He patted the rear spoiler. “It’s an insta-classic because it’s the last year they put out the Evo. You have no idea how long it took me to find this.”

  “Partner, you crack me up, but if it makes you happy, I’m happy,” I told him with a shake of my head.

  “I’ll be happy to get these goodies inside.” Mike opened the hatchback and pulled out a box. “Four Roses, superfine sugar, seltzer water, and fresh mint.”

  “Because we got shot at.”

  “It’s a bad habit, Ethan,” he said with a hint of humor that didn’t translate to the concern on his face. “I hear our lovely Tessa was there, as well. I owe her a mint julep for each time she’s been fired at this time.”

  “Twice,” Holm coughed.

  “Twice!” Mike blinked. “Damn, boy. What’re you into now?”

  “Let’s walk, and I’ll give you the overview.”

  We couldn’t give specifics, but the nutshell version was more than enough for Mike. By the time we got back to my houseboat, he was as caught up as anyone not directly involved. I opened the door and waved him in.

  “Tessa Bleu, two mint juleps for you,” he bellowed as we went in.

  “Mike!”

  Tessa jumped from her seat at the table and ran over. Mike set the box down and gave her a bear hug.

  “Young lady, I highly recommend you stay away from people with bad intentions.” He shook a finger at her in a good-natured way. “I had to call in one of my bartenders to cover so I could come to take care of this crowd.”

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” she cried. “I’m okay, I promise.”

  He pulled out the bottle of seltzer. “I wasn’t feeling the tango tonight, anyway. There’s much better company in this room. I swear I’m gonna retire someday.”

  “Who’d run the Tango Hut?” I protested. “We need you there.”

  Mike pointed the seltzer bottle at me and then the others in turn. “You youngsters are going to drive me out of business, what with your line of work.”

  “Aw, Mike,” Muñoz smiled at him. Dang, she could fool a person into thinking she was an innocent, but Mike knew better. “We bring in friends who don’t get shot at.” She gestured toward Bonnie and Clyde, who’d huddled in a corner to talk some geekery. “Those two, for instance. I don’t think they’ve ever been shot at.”

  Mike ended up making mint juleps for everyone, whether they liked it or not. For Mike, we all liked it, although I noticed Birn discreetly pour his into the water from my little balcony on the back. He saw me looking, and we nodded at each other. He had a story I knew about, but that was his to tell.

  Eventually, we all drifted up to my upper deck that served in place of a patio. I got the chairs out from the storage locker and turned on the white holiday lights Gramps had me string up a few months before he passed. It was something of a miracle that the darned things still worked and that the canopy had survived. I shared cigars that I’d brought in from one of our missions. They were only for special times, and the gathering of my team, who were my friends, counted.

  “You got the right of it, Ethan,” Mike said around his cigar. “It’s peaceful here.” A burst of laughter from the other side of the marina floated across the water. “Mostly.”

  “Eh, I get noisy neighbors sometimes, but it’s not bad.”

  “What about hurricanes?” Tessa asked. “I always wondered what people do with houseboats.”

  I shrugged. “Depends on the storm. I have a guy who tows it inland and tucks it in a smaller marina if there’s a bad blow on the way. If I’m in town, bunk with Robbie or Birn.” I puffed out a perfect circle the way Gramps showed me way back. “I can stand a Cat Three easy enough. Just loosen the ties for the storm surge, secure everything, pull the shutters on the windows.”

  “And hope the dock doesn’t break away,” Clyde spoke up.

  “Hey, that only happened once,” I protested with a smile.

  I ignored the jibes that followed. The Mariah Jean was my home, end of story. Gramps left her to me, along with the property inland. The orange grove and the small house were his and my grandmother’s dream. I loved it out there, and I couldn’t imagine selling. The neighbors were family friends, and they did a little upkeep in exchange for all the oranges they wanted.

  Someone knocked at my door. I went over to the rail and looked down to find Warner fidgeting at my threshold.

  “I’ll be right down,” I called out.

  Warner jumped and looked up. “Oh, I didn’t see you. Sorry, I’m late, but I got some new info.”

  I went down and then brought him to the upper deck. Clyde was ready to leave and offered his chair to Warner, who accepted. Warner had his laptop in hand and had a hard time sitting still.

  “I put in a request for information on this old SEAL guy, Simon Kelley,” Warner told us. “There was a shit-ton of red tape, even with secret clearance.”

  Bonnie gave a long, low whistle. “Wow, that’s serious business.”

  Warner nodded.

  “Robbie, wake up.” I kicked at his foot. It was late, we’d had a long day, and he’d had a few drinks after Mike promised to get him home safely. I was also tired and dropped into my chair. “Warner has something.”

  Tessa looked over from where she was talking with Muñoz and Birn. They circled in with the rest of us, and Holm opened his eyes with more than a little reluctance.

  “What do you have?” I asked Warner.

  “Tessa and Mike can’t hear this stuff,” he said. “I’m really sorry, but you have to have at least secret level like these guys have.”

  Tessa stood and waited for Mike, but he didn’t move. He let out a deep breath and met my eyes.

  “I got clearance,” he said in a gruff tone. “I’ll prove it if I gotta, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I sat up straight. “What level?”

  “Ethan—”

  “What level?” I didn’t know why I had to know, but since getting to know him, that vibe had come and gone, especially when we glossed over cases.

  “I’m retired. It doesn’t matter anymore.” He tilted his head toward Tessa. “But I want to hear about this Kelley guy.”

  Tessa shrugged. “Okay. I’ll wait downstairs.” She yawned. “It’s late, anyway.”

  I felt bad sending her downstairs. Then again, maybe it was safer for her. As she left the upper deck, Muñoz turned on a radio just loud enough to cover our discussion should anyone walk by on the dock.

  “You could've told us before,” Holm told Mike. “What’re you, like, former military or something? And why keep active clearance? You really retired?”

  Mike shook his head at Holm. “I like you kids.” He pointed at me before I could say something. “You’re hardened, but in my eyes, you’re kids. I’m fifty-nine, and I’m lucky to be that old.” He gave Holm a soft smile. “And yeah, I’m retired. The bar is my retirement gift to myself. Keeps me busy.”

  “Okay, um, guys?” Warner pointed to his laptop. “This shit is Top Secret. You agents and Bonnie got special clearance for this. I-I’m sorry, Mike—”

  “For God’s sake, TJ, I got clearance,” Mike barked. I’d never seen him this way. He leaned back into his chair and rubbed his face. “Look, I heard of this guy, okay? That is all I can say until I hear what TJ has.”

  To say everyone was stunned would be an understatement. Gentle, convivial Mike had more to him than I ever guessed.

  “Okay then. I trust you,” I told him. “Everyone in agreement?”

  Bonnie, Holm, and Birn nodded, but Muñoz sho
ok her head. “I have to see something to prove it. I want to trust you, Mike, but I don’t trust anyone.”

  He nodded and took out his phone. People with clearance don’t carry anything to confirm it. To have that information on his phone, it had to be encrypted like hell.

  “This doesn’t leave this deck,” he told us. “I never wanted to tell you, but this guy you’re dealing with, he’s bad news.”

  He scrolled and tapped, and then our phones all beeped and buzzed. Mike sat back and crossed his arms as we checked the notifications. It came from the CIA. And the NSA. Mike had the highest security level short of the president. There were a few things that none of us would say aloud, including his real name.

  “Shiiiit,” Holm whispered. “You’re a damned Bond.”

  Mike pointed at him. “Never say that again, Robert.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t ever call me ‘sir,’ either. I’m a retired patriot.”

  None of us would think of Mike in the same way again, but it explained a few things, and as much as I hated to think of him like it, it made him an excellent connection, if we ever needed it. Besides, based on the list we were sent, it was no wonder he didn’t want friends to know. He just wanted to be left alone.

  Muñoz put her phone away. “You understand why I had to ask,” she said in a sad tone. “If, um, if you ever need to talk…”

  He smiled at her. “I know, Sylvia.” He reached over and patted her hand. “I wouldn’t hang out with you ruffians if I didn’t like you. I’m getting old, y’know? Maybe a little camaraderie isn’t so bad.”

  “Thanks, Mike.” Warner opened his laptop. He kept glancing over to Mike as he pulled up the files on Kelley. “I, uh, I see why you know who this is.” He swallowed.

  “Simon Kelley is the guy you heard of, the SEAL who took out the gunrunners on the boat back in the late eighties.” Warner took a breath. “But, um, that’s not what really happened. He claimed he believed the boat to be carrying guns and drugs.” He looked up. “It was the wrong boat. They were a charter carrying tourists to one of the small islands.”