Outside the reach of the spotlight glare, Gabriel decided to settle for what cargo he had in his panga, and head for home before he was caught. He didn’t know exactly what he would do with the four packages of cocaine he’d fished from the sea. He had no safe way of selling them, except maybe through Hector, and he truly hoped that Hector was aboard All Bidness when it blew up.
He was pondering this dilemma when he crested a wave and almost collided with Jenkzy. Veering off to miss the pangita, he circled back and snagged her bowline. A smile lit his face when he saw the fifteen horse Evinrude. Now there, he thought, is something worth finding.
“Sir, we have a survivor on board,” one of the Coast Guard rescue units reported back to Endeavor.
“Give me details,” Arrington said into the radio, giving a thumbs-up in Xavier’s direction.
“Mexican national, sir. He says his name is KiKi and he was crew on All Bidness.”
“What’s his condition?” Arrington asked, trying to mask his disappointment that the survivor wasn’t Hetta or Jenks.
“He’s fine sir, just a little shook up. He does have a nasty dog bite on his arm.”
“I can’t wait to hear the rest of that story,” Xavier said dryly. “Cuff him and turn him over to Matamoros. They can throw him in their brig with those two pilots and the shrimp boat captain.”
“Yes, sir. Sir?”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s getting real bad out here. What’s the weather report.”
“Not good. The winds have picked up to forty-five, gusting to fifty-five. You can’t stay out there much longer.”
“We’d like to give it a little while.”
“Use your discretion.”
“Yes, sir.”
Xavier and Arrington exchanged glances, both thinking the chances of finding the Jenkins anytime soon were deteriorating along with the weather.
Chapter 40
Now I would give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground.—Shakespeare
Hetta tried deep breathing, and then conjured up visualization techniques from every yoga class she’d ever taken. Nothing worked. Her heart jackhammered, thrumming her eardrums so hard she couldn’t differentiate between the roar of the waves and wind, and the freight train in her head. She couldn’t get enough oxygen, even when she was above water.
Deep, dark water, and what might lurk in those seemingly endless depths, stirred a primal dread far beyond anything that drug runners, storms, or bullets could. Only a tiny shred of self-control, and her love for Jenks, prevented her from climbing on top of him to escape the water. She strained to hear Jenks’s calming voice as he talked to her over the howling wind and crashing water.
“Hetta, hold my hand and don’t think about the water. I mean, what’s the difference between thirty feet and three hundred feet of water?”
“Is that a trick question?” she asked in a quivery attempt at humor. “Two hundred and seventy feet. And I can’t see what’s down there.”
A wave broke over them and left them choking and gagging. Jenks tugged on the tether holding their jackets together, pulled Hetta closer to him. “Let’s try to keep our backs to the waves if we can,” he shouted, “and don’t resist ‘em. Relax, roll over the top. If you fight you’re just wasting energy and body heat.”
Jenks’s voice undulated, coming in spurts between the drumbeats in Hetta’s ears, but she understood. “Jenks, body heat I’ve got. And I’m really, really, trying to relax. Really.” The “really” came out “r-r-r-eeellly.”
Jenks saw she was deathly pale. “Are you hurt, Hetta? Cold? Or just scared?”
“Nuh...no. I bit my tongue when we hit the water, but it’s not bad. You?”
“I’m fine.”
“How can it be so dark with all those stars and that moon?” Hetta asked, looking at the sky and trying not to think of what was probably zeroing in on her dangling legs. “And those boat and search lights seem so close. Can’t we try to swim to them?”
“Tex, they’re at least two miles away, against the wind and current. We’d just be wasting energy.”
“You could make it. Without me, you could.”
“I’m not leaving you. Not for anything. Besides it’ll be dawn before all that long, and these orange life jackets will stand out like a turd in the punchbowl. And by then they’ll have called in an air search.”
“I’d just as soon not wait that long, thank you.” Another wave crested over them, but this time Hetta managed to avoid swallowing water. “Damned square waves,” she growled, her voice gaining strength. “Why can’t the Sea of Cortez have waves like the rest of the damned world? We’re getting further and further away. And the moon is setting. How are they going to find us?”
“Oh,” Jenks said, his voice confident, “they’ll set up a search pattern in ever-widening circles.”
“Even if this norther gets worse?”
“Even if. And remember that guy who fell overboard last year? In a norther worse than this one? He just floated with the tide and ended up right back where he started.”
Hetta felt a surge of hope. “Yes, he did, didn’t he? And he didn’t even have on a wet suit like we do.”
A roller crashed over the couple and Hetta cursed again. A good sign, Jenks thought, better mad than scared.
“Jenks, I just remembered something. It took that man twenty-four hours to float back to where he fell off the boat. Twenty-four hours!” Hetta said, panic rising in her voice.
“It won’t be that long, I promise. We’ve got the United-damned-States Coast Guard looking for us.”
“You mean the ones who shot at us?” Hetta said dryly.
Jenks laughed. That’s better. “Not at us, I’m sure. That was only to warn All Bidness....” His voice trailed off.
“All Bidness blew up.” Hetta’s chin trembled. “Bud and Sam Houston. They’re gone, aren’t they?”
“Honey, we don’t know that for sure. Besides, it looked to me like Bud was doing his level best to run us down. I sure as hell hope he made it, because I want some answers from that big son of a bitch.”
“Jenks, I saw Bud driving All Bidness with my own eyes, and I still can’t believe it. Why? I’ll tell you one thing, this Texan plans to find out how that Texan got himself in this mess. If it’s the last thing I do. Unless this is.”
Jenks squeezed Hetta’s hand. “I wonder where Jenkzy is?”
“I’m sorry, Honey. I tried to hold on.”
“It’s not your fault. We just underestimated the force of the waves when we jumped. I figured we could hang on to the tow line and climb in when we were clear, but everything happened too fast.”
Jenks’s stomach growled. “I wonder if they have any Oscar Meyer wieners on that Coast Guard cutter? I think I’ll eat a whole package after they pick us up. What do you want?”
“Anything but fish. Speaking of which...never mind, I don’t want to talk about it.”
But Jenks knew what she was thinking, and had to get her mind on something else. “Are you sure you’re not cold?” he asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Good. You know, I’ve been thinking—”
“I hate it when that happens,” Hetta’s teeth glowed in the moonlight as she grinned. It was a strained grin, but a grin.
“That’s my certified sea wench. And you know what I’m thinking? That we don’t have to go back to the States yet. We can make it a while longer if we’re real careful.”
“What’s the point? HiJenks is toast.”
“Let’s be optimistic. We have insurance, we’re not hurt, and we’ll be picked up soon, so we’ll just—”
“What was that?” Hetta screamed as a wave crested over them. Flailing wildly, she tried to swim away, but the tether between their life jackets held her back.
“Hetta, what in hell? What’s wrong?” Jenks jerked her closer.
“Something bumped me! Oh, shit, it’s a shark. I just know it. Or a giant squid!”
&nbs
p; “No, it’s not. Now calm down, lie back, and put your feet on my shoulders.”
She tried, but the weight of her legs pushed them dangerously low in the water and a wave buried them both again. Hetta surfaced thrashing.
“Hetta! Stop it! Right now!”
She went still, but her eyes were crazed with terror. “Jenks, I think I’m going to faint. Something nudged me. And it glowed. It’s a squid, I just know it.”
“Probably just seaweed, or—Jesus, what was that?” Throwing his arm out in self-defense, he snagged a handful of soggy fur.
Leaving the Coast Guard and Mexican Navy to their own search patterns, Jaime decided to try further south, even though Bananas was running very low on fuel.
“Damn, there goes the moon,” Nicole said, watching the last sliver of light slide below the heaving horizon. It suddenly became very dark. “How much longer till dawn? Or we run out of fuel?” she asked.
“Both will come soon, I think.”
“How are we going to find anything out here? We don’t even have a searchlight.”
“I have spent many years in the Sea of Cortez, my dear. First working on charter boats with my brother-in-law, then in the navy. I know these waters. This time of year the currents run very strong, like rivers within the sea. Whatever they carry south, they will bring back.”
“Do you think they’re alive?”
“I do not know. But if they are, we will find them. Well, we won’t, as we will soon be floating on the whim of the tide ourselves.”
“Oh, great, the old out of gas story,” Nicole grinned, then jerked her head around as something caught her eye. “Look.”
“What? Where?”
“There. Wait, I don’t see it now. Keep looking at three o’clock.”
“I still don’t see...yes, I saw a flash of light. Hang on, here goes the last of our gas.” Jaime jammed the throttles forward and Bananas soared over a cresting wave, racing towards where they had seen the light.
“I’ve lost it,” Nicole yelled. “Stop.”
Jaime put the boat in neutral and they waited. “There it is again,” he said. On the crest of a wave they saw what appeared to be a strobe light.
Epilogue
The sea washes all man’s ills away.—Euripides
Log of the HiJenks, Sea of Cortez (We’re baaaak! Can you believe it???)
Wind: Calm
Sky: Clear
Water Temp: 71 F. Barometer: Steady
We’re finally back at sea, a whole year since we lost Bud. HiJenks is mended, but I wonder if this hole in my heart ever will be. I try to remember the good times, but more often than not I see Bud at the helm of All Bidness right before it blew up. I saw the videos from Endeavor and am convinced, as the authorities are, that Bud fired that flare at Gato, not us. Jenks thinks so, too.
Did Bud know he was going to die? Is that why he mailed a handwritten will to his lawyer in Houston just days before All Bidness went down in flames? I guess we’ll never know, but whatever happened, whatever mistakes he made, we’re grateful for his generosity. His folksy writing style almost broke my heart.
“I want,” he wrote “my best friends, Hetta and Jenks Jenkins, to have ole Sam Houston. I know they’ll take real good care of him, especially since I also want them to inherit my entire estate so they can buy dawg food. I don’t have any relatives that are worth a damn, so if any of them try to contest this will, you make sure they don’t get one red cent. I guess that’s it. Bud.”
Bud’s lawyer carried out his will to the letter.
Jaime, bless his little cop heart, was a big help with a lot of the Mexican BS (I could write volumes!!!) we had to go through regarding the “incident.” Nikki visited him several times while we were in San Carlos getting repaired, and she and Jaime seem to be getting really close. Close to what, I don’t know. They appear to be torn between romance and duty. Maybe I’ll find out more when she and Jaime cruise on HiJenks with us this year. Just call us the Love Boat.
I hear the engines slowing, so we must be at the site. H.
Hetta shut down the computer and joined Jenks on deck. Nothing on the glassy sea gave any hint that here, on a windy night one year before, four people lost their lives to a gulf of greed. HiJenks lolled on a slight swell, gently rocking Hetta and Jenks as they stood on deck holding hands.
Hetta scanned—foolishly, she knew—searching for any sign of Bud. Her gaze turned to Jenks and she smiled through her tears. He pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. Sam Houston whined, wanting in on the action.
Hetta wiped her cheeks and scooped him up by his vest. “I know you miss him too, Sam-dog. But we love you.”
“We sure as heck do, mutt,” Jenks said, scratching the terrier’s ears. “There’re a lot of reasons—several hundred thousand of ‘em—that you’re the dog of my dreams.”
Hetta stuck out her tongue at Jenks. “He doesn’t mean it, Sam. He loves you for your keen mind.”
Canardly sauntered on deck and checked his empty bowl for food. Disappointed, he rolled over, offering his ample tummy to the sun. Hetta and Jenks chuckled.
“I guess I should put him on restricted rations, Jenks, but he was hungry for so much of his life, maybe he deserves to be a mite portly. Wish I had an excuse for myself.” A slight breeze ruffled her hair as she spoke. “Uh, I’m not ready for a windy day at sea. Let’s do it and head for port, okay?”
Jenks went below and returned with a frosty magnum of Mumms, two crystal flutes, and a fifth of Wild Turkey. Opening the bottles, he filled their glasses with bubbly and handed one to Hetta. “To Bud,” he toasted, “we miss you.”
They downed the champagne, and then Hetta picked up the Wild Turkey. Giving the bottle a kiss, she launched it into the sea, yelling, “And remember the Alamo.”
~End~
Author’s Note
I love to hear from readers, so let me know what you think about Troubled Sea. You can email me at [email protected]
If you liked Troubled Sea you also might enjoy reading about Hetta and Jenks when they met. Hetta Coffey is a sassy Texan with a snazzy yacht, and she's not afraid to use it! This humorous mystery won an EPPIE award, and takes place years before the events in Trouble Sea. Take a look at http://amzn.to/ro70QS
Jinx on Facebook: http://on.fb.me/OegHma
Jinx's Twitter handle @jinxschwartz
Jinx's Twitter page: http://bit.ly/peOlj6
Jinx's website: http://jinxschwartz.com
About the Author
Raised in the jungles of Haiti and Thailand, Jinx followed her father’s steel-toed footsteps into the Construction and Engineering industry in the hopes of building dams. Finding all the good rivers taken, she traveled the world defacing other landscapes with mega-projects in Alaska, Japan, New Zealand, Puerto Rico and Mexico.
Like the characters in her novel, Troubled Sea, Jinx and her husband, Bob, gave up corporate life to cruise the Sea of Cortez. They now divide their time between Arizona and Mexico.
Table of Contents
BOOKS BY JINX SCHWARTZ
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
> Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Troubled Sea Page 27