The Amorous Attorney (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 2)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  I turned to Mike. "You're the president of this outfit. You need to train them."

  "To do what?"

  "To lock the goddam door, for Pete's sake."

  We all laughed.

  "What about Rhonda and Juliet?"

  Carter said, "They tried to leave the hotel, but the municipal police have put them under house arrest."

  "That's an interesting turn of events."

  Mike added, "Seems like Juliet bribed the motel clerk to keep back Jeffery's luggage. Once that matter had been cleared up, the clerk went to swear out evidence as a case of bribery."

  "Really? That sounds awfully civic-minded of someone who could be bought one way and the other."

  Mike said, "Exactly. I think the municipal police have been embarrassed because they arrested Jeffery on Juliet's say-so."

  "Nacho may be trying to keep them at close range, without being implicated himself. And it's ironic he would use his brother's pawns to do his own work."

  Carter looked at me. "Nacho? His brother?"

  I explained what the captain had told me. When I was done, Carter said, "It sounds like you two kissed and made up."

  "Without the kissing part, but yeah."

  Mike mused, "I wonder what kissing a man with a big mustache would feel like?"

  I replied, "According to the man himself, you don't easily forget how good it is."

  Carter looked at me with narrowed eyes. "He told you that, son?"

  "When he told me I was missing my chance. We both agreed you were too big for us to mess around like that."

  We all laughed.

  . . .

  That night, Carter and I slept in the big bed that was in the owner's suite. We had our own head, along with a small shower, that I was looking forward to watching Carter use. As it was, he had to duck when we came down to this level, where the staterooms were. The ceiling was just about 6'2" or so. Poor Mike was having the same problem. And his room was aft so the ceiling was even lower. I was feeling a tiny bit of sweet revenge for all the times they'd teased me about my height.

  The rocking of the boat put us to sleep pretty quick. At some point during the night, Carter woke me up in an amorous mood. As a result, I slept soundly and awoke refreshed. I was alone when I did.

  After pulling on the previous day's trousers, rolling up the legs, and slipping on yesterday's shirt, without buttoning it up, I padded my way above deck, barefoot, to see what there was to see. At some point in the night, we had moved from the harbor and were now moored in a cove about a hundred yards or so from the coast.

  The far beach was empty, bordered by cacti, with some mountains in the distance. It was a glorious morning. I found Carter, alone, sitting on the aft deck at a small table, drinking coffee. He was wearing some of the duds we'd bought in town. His handsome legs were highlighted by his very short dark-blue swimming trunks. He had on a light blue cotton shirt, which was open and flapping in the wind. It was a sight to behold.

  I sat down on the bench next to him. He put his hand on my thigh and squeezed it. We sat there for a while, in the gentle sea breeze, happy and content. After a while, the first mate came around and asked about breakfast. The crew kindly brought it to us, and we both tore into the eggs, bacon, and toast. The jam wasn't red plum, but it was tasty.

  "Seen Mike this morning?" I asked.

  "Nope."

  We sat there, looking out at the water. I noticed some high clouds. I thought I heard something jumping out of the water. And it sounded like it was coming from just along the starboard side. I stood up, walked over, and looked. To my delight, there were four dolphins. They were playing in the water with each other. As soon as one of them saw me, it made a high-pitched stuttering sound which was utterly charming. I laughed and, to my mind at least, the creature laughed with me.

  I looked more closely and I could see they were actually fishing. My one friend had taken a break to say hello, but soon went back to its business. They moved on as soon the fish did. I waved, knowing they wouldn't know, but feeling very happy right in that moment.

  I heard Carter say, "That was something, son."

  I turned around and looked up at him. "It was. This is the first time since we came down here that I'm not chomping at the bit to get home."

  He looked around and then pulled me in for a hug. We stood there for a moment until we heard a polite cough.

  We pulled apart to see the ship's captain, a short older man with a salt and pepper beard, smiling at us both. "Did you see our friends out there fishing?"

  I smiled and nodded. "That was something to see."

  "Sometimes I'm sure they can talk," he said.

  "I would swear one of them was laughing with me."

  The ship's captain smiled. "I came around to tell you I received a radio message from Captain Esparza. He is coming out to the ship and will be here around noon. He has something important to discuss with you."

  I nodded and then thought of Marnie. "Oh, captain?"

  "Yes?"

  "Can we send a radiogram to my secretary in San Francisco? She has no idea what's really going on and has probably seen a picture of me getting arrested yesterday. I'm sure it was in all the papers."

  He smiled but shook his head. "I'm sorry. Captain Esparza was very specific in his instructions. No communications other than emergency ones."

  I nodded and said, "I understand. Thank you."

  Carter asked, "Where are we?"

  "I moved us about twenty nautical miles south. That's what Mr. Deladier would have me do if he was on board. He always likes for the ship to move around at night so that he wakes up to a new view every morning."

  "Sounds nice." I wondered about the price of a tub like this and the cost of keeping the crew.

  "Yes. I wanted to make it look like he was on board." He looked at us. "You might know him?"

  I shook my head. "No, I don't get out of San Francisco much. Although, this morning, I'm thinking I should."

  Suddenly, I realized I hadn't introduced myself. "I'm sorry, captain, my name is Nick Williams. I'm sure you already knew that. But I don't know your name."

  "Captain William Jennings."

  We shook. "No Bryant?"

  The man pursed his lips slightly. "No."

  "I'm sure no one has ever asked you that before."

  "No one quite as handsome." Oh ho. So, it was like that.

  I turned to Carter. "You met my friend Carter Jones last night, I suppose."

  Carter said, "No."

  They shook hands. I asked, "Does Mr. Deladier often have gentlemen friends with him?"

  Captain Jennings nodded slightly. "I've never seen a woman aboard this vessel."

  I smiled. "Well, perhaps we'll get a chance to meet him someday. I certainly like your ship, captain."

  He looked around and looked a little sad. "Yes. As do I. It's a pity, really."

  "What's that?"

  "Mr. Deladier has returned to France now that the war is over and life is back to normal, more or less. He's taking over the management of his family vineyard. He won't be coming back. The Jules Verne is for sale." He looked at me hopefully.

  I asked, "Isn't it odd to give a ship a masculine name?"

  "Not for Mr. Deladier." He winked and then said, "I have to get back to my bridge. I hope you gentlemen will have a good morning."

  Carter put his arm around me and pulled me in. He said, "Thank you, Captain."

  The man smiled, turned, and was gone.

  Carter looked down at me. "Please, Nick! Please! Can I have this for Christmas? Say yes!"

  I laughed. "We'll see. It would be nice, wouldn't it?"

  Chapter 24

  Aboard the Jules Verne

  Thursday, May 28, 1953

  Just before noon

  A little before noon, Carter and I were lying down on the cushions that one of the crew had put out for us. Carter had on some ridiculous sunglasses that he'd found in the owner's stateroom. He was trying to read his dwarves and drago
ns book under the bright Mexican sun.

  I was in a daze from the sunshine, myself. I had changed into my own swim trunks and opted to go without a shirt.

  The last time I'd spent much time outside, I'd noticed my skin turned more of a toasty brown than the deep red it did when I was in New Guinea. Maybe it was the difference in latitude.

  In any event, I was also thinking about how much money I would be willing to spend so that I could buy this ship. As soon as Carter asked, I knew we had to have it. There was just no question. It wasn't that I couldn't deny him anything, although I couldn't. And it wasn't that this was a special moment since he had never asked me for anything like this, because it was. It was because I really wanted my own ship. And I didn't know it until I'd heard Jo Stafford's voice floating across the harbor last night. The idea of a ship being a place to relax and spend time with your man was not something I'd ever considered.

  I was on my stomach, with my face turned towards Carter, looking at his face, with his nose in the book and those ridiculous sunglasses on his nose, when I heard a horn coming across the water. I sat up and could see several men standing outside cars.

  Someone was blowing a car horn. It sounded like a signal, but I couldn't catch it. In a moment, the ship's horn sounded in reply. Two long, one short, a pause, one short, one long. I realized that was Morse code for "GA," or "Go Ahead." I guessed that meant, "come on out."

  I kept watching as two men got inside a rubber boat with an outboard motor. Soon they were close enough to recognize. One of them was the captain. The other was his officer who'd "arrested" me the day before.

  "We have company."

  "I heard."

  "Are you off fighting a dragon somewhere?"

  "If you really want to know, we're escaping from elves."

  "I can't follow that story. It's too complicated."

  "You think this one is complicated? I just read the other day in the Chronicle that a much longer story is being published in England, next spring or summer. It's so long, it will be three books. Hopefully we'll get copies in the States not too long after."

  "Great. You'll have lots more to tell me about that I will understand even less. Can't wait."

  Carter punched me playfully in the arm. "Shouldn't you go down and say hello to your boyfriend?"

  I said, "I think he likes you better. Did I tell you the part where he said you were wiser and smarter than me?"

  Cater laughed. "I knew I liked that man for a reason. Come on."

  He stood up and pulled me up with him. We walked down the steps to the main deck. The police captain was sitting at the table, alone, when we walked into the lounge. I felt a good breeze coming in through the open windows on the starboard side. The captain stood up as soon as we entered. To his credit, his eyes did not bug out when he saw us with almost no clothes on. But his smile got very broad and his eyes kept going back to Carter's legs. I didn't blame him.

  "Good morning, gentlemen. I hope you slept well here on this ship."

  I smiled and said, "Good afternoon, Captain. And yes, we did."

  I looked around and wondered about Mike. We hadn't seen him all morning. I said, "Excuse me. I want to find Mike."

  As Carter was asking the captain about the latest news, I went below deck to see what was happening down there.

  I knocked on Mike's door and heard a shuffle of sheets. "Who is it?"

  "Mike. It's me, Nick. The captain is here. Are you gonna come up for lunch?"

  There was some fierce whispering.

  "I know you're not alone in there."

  It got quiet. Then a small giggle.

  "I'm coming in."

  More sheets shuffling.

  I opened the door and there was my best friend and former lover looking very hot and bothered, with the crewman who'd helped me come aboard the night before. He was maybe 5'5" tall, had a tight and lean body, with short dark hair on his head and no body hair most everywhere else. He was also covered in tattoos, more than I had seen since my Navy days.

  Mike's scary monster face was beginning to form, so I said, "Take your time. No rush. I'm sure the cook can make you a sandwich later."

  I shut the door and ran back upstairs, trying not to laugh.

  . . .

  The captain and I had grilled fish that the crew had caught. Carter had a hamburger sandwich. I had no idea where they got hamburger from, and I kept my mouth shut about my doubts as to its digestibility.

  We ate in companionable silence. Finally, I asked, "What's the latest?"

  The captain put down his fork and wiped his mouth. "Nothing yet. The municipal police have this Rhonda and Juliet under house arrest. Mostly for protective custody. But also, because I want to keep them close in case your theory is right."

  I nodded and took a sip of the Negra Modelo that I'd found a stash of. "How is Marge doing?"

  "She is very busy. I saw Don Rocha washing dishes last night. They will be busy like this for many days to come, I think."

  "Still lots of reporters?"

  "Yes. I gave interviews to so many yesterday afternoon. They wanted to know why the American Consulate in Tijuana had no idea that you were in custody. I told them you had not asked and that I was under no obligation to tell them. This might cause some diplomatic difficulties." He smiled and shrugged. "But I am just a lowly state police captain. What do I know of international relations?"

  "How is it going to look when I show up, all of a sudden?"

  "Like the criminal justice system of Mexico is working as it should."

  I smiled, thanking my lucky stars that I wasn't actually involved in that system.

  Carter asked, "What is your next move?"

  The captain stood up and looked around. "I am staying here until dark. I needed some place to hide. My brother is trying to find me."

  This alarmed me, for some reason. "Is he trying to kill you?"

  The captain looked down at his hands, turning them over, as if trying to decide whether to wash them. "Yes, I think he is. I am more convinced than ever that my theory is the right one. Either he or one of his pistoleros shot your friend."

  . . .

  I offered the captain the use of my beach clothes. We were about the same height and build. But he declined. He did, however, loosen his belt and remove his official tie. It was a dark olive that matched the light khaki of the uniform. His long boots stayed on, however. When he said that he felt more comfortable as he was dressed, I could see how they would be difficult to take off and then put back on. I looked up at the end of this little chat to see Carter looking at me and grinning like a monkey. I knew he would have something to say about it later.

  Around 2, the captain said he would take a little siesta in the lounge, if we didn't mind. We went back aft to the bench and both snoozed, me under Carter's arm.

  The afternoon sun was hot. The sea breeze stopped blowing. I could hear the captain's men talking in Spanish. Their voices carried across the water clearly, even though I couldn't understand them.

  I had been nodding on and off for a while, when I heard a noise. I couldn't figure out what it was. But it woke Carter also. He stood up and looked at the shore. "Nick. Get up." I stood up and looked where he was pointing.

  All the cars were gone. There was no one left waiting to take the captain back to town tonight.

  We walked into the lounge. Nacho was stretched out on the sofa, his boots propped up on the arm. He looked very vulnerable. One light brown arm was over his face to block out the sunlight. He was breathing slowly and had a slight snore as he did. I could once again see the appeal of this man. I felt a great deal of affection for him, for some reason. It didn't make sense, considering everything. I looked up at Carter, who had a look on his face that made me think he was thinking along the same lines. He looked down at me and smiled. He whispered, "Why didn't you offer to help him off with his boots? I know you wanted to. Your tongue was practically hanging out."

  This seemed to rouse the man. His arm came down
and he sat up quickly. He ran his hands through his hair and stretched a bit. As he looked at us, he smiled warmly. "Gentlemen. Good afternoon."

  I said, "Nacho. Your men are gone."

  He stood up and looked at me with confusion on his face. "No, it cannot be."

  I nodded and said, "I'm going to tell Captain Jennings to send us out in the ocean and to head back to town."

  Nacho stood there, looking dazed. "Yes. I think so."

  I went outside and walked forward to the small, enclosed bridge. I knocked on the door, waiting to be let in. The captain slid open the door. "Yes, Mr. Williams?"

  "Nacho's, um, I mean the police captain's men seemed to have all abandoned their posts. We need to sail back to Ensenada."

  Captain Jennings looked around me and over to the shore. His face registered surprise. "They certainly have. We'll get underway shortly. Full throttle?"

  I nodded. I wanted to ask him about the price of the ship, but skipped it since we had bigger fish to fry.

  I went back aft to the lounge and found Nacho standing in the doorway looking a bit lost. I had a sudden pang of dread.

  I said, "Nacho, let's go inside. We'll be underway in a moment." Right then I could here the crew relaying orders. Someone rang a bell. As we were settling in, I heard feet running across the deck. I looked out and saw Mike's little buddy scampering to his post, holding up his trousers and without a shirt. I had a feeling that, considering the ship's owner, this wouldn't be that big of a deal among the rest of the crew.

  I heard the anchor being lifted as the engines roared to life. Slowly the ship moved forward and then began a slow starboard turn out towards the open ocean and on our way north to Ensenada.

  In about ten minutes, Mike came loping in. He was wearing rolled up trousers, an open shirt, bare feet, and a sheepish grin.

  I looked at my watch. "3:30? All morning and all afternoon? You're a machine, Mike."

  He sat down and said, "Is there any food? I'm starving."

  Carter got up and offered to rustle up some grub for him. After he left, I filled Mike in on the latest. His face went from sleepy to alarmed pretty fast.

  "This isn't good." That was directed at Nacho.

  "No, it is not my friend." He seemed to be getting more distressed by the moment. And, again, as I looked at him, I felt a terrible knot in my stomach.