by Matt Lincoln
“Not exactly,” Daniels said with a shrug. “I think it was more of a loose partnership over there, the beginnings of something. The ship was a sign of good faith in the new relationship. Though from what I hear, you guys threw a real wrench in that one.”
“We sure did,” Holm chuckled, the corner of his mouth curling upward.
“Where was the ship?” I asked. “Do you know?”
“Yeah, it was between Crab and Melody,” he said dismissively. “I was there when they pulled it up. I guess it’s pretty cool if that’s your kind of thing.”
I exchanged a look with Penny. Those were the two Keys that she’d been talking about earlier, the ones right above Pye Key here.
“How did they find out that it was there?” I asked, no doubt displaying to him that I was, in fact, someone who cared about this kind of thing.
“Jeez, man, I don’t know, can’t you tell I don’t really care about this stuff?” Daniels complained, and I sighed.
“That’s clear,” I said curtly. “But anything else you know that could be helpful?”
“I don’t know how they found it, but they figured it out, and then they bought Melody off that movie star or whatever,” Daniels said with a sigh of his own to match mine, clearly bored by the topic. “Then they spent months excavating the place until they found the thing. While they were in the area, they bought the properties on Little Torch and brought me into their business plan. That enough for you?”
“Almost,” I assured him. “How long was this going on, do you think? When did they buy Melody Key?”
“Oh, probably about two years,” Daniels said, scratching the back of his mop of blond hair as he thought about this, and at that moment, I couldn’t help but think that he looked more like a beach bum than a feared drug kingpin. Everyone was reduced to something in the end, I guessed.
“Alright, thanks,” I said dryly, wishing that he had been able to tell me more. Then again, what did I expect? This guy was concerned with making money, not digging up old ships, especially old ships that weren’t going to do anything for him, specifically.
“Do you know where this couple is now?” Holm asked him. “We’d be really interested in having a talk with them if you catch my drift.”
“Oh, I bet you would,” Daniels said, laughing darkly and seeming to relish the idea of his bosses going down with them. “And I don’t know. Last I heard, they got the hell out of Florida once things started to go south here. They’ve got properties all along the coast. I couldn’t tell you where they’re at now, sorry. You’ll have to figure that one out for yourself.”
“When was the last time you were in touch with them?” I asked.
“Oh, a few days ago,” he said with another shrug. “They ran off when they found out we took your agent. They weren’t too happy with us for that one. No, not at all.”
“Neither were we,” Muñoz said, glaring at him. “Now, where is he?”
“Okay, okay, hold your horses,” Daniels said, holding his hands up in the air again. “Just follow me. I’ll take you to him.”
33
Ethan
Daniels led us back through the main campsite, then through that thin trail that I had originally seen through the tree branches to the second large campsite, and then through yet another underpass to a small clearing that only held two tents.
“Watch yourself,” Holm warned the gangbanger as he ducked down to unzip one of the tents. “Don’t try anything funny.”
“What am I going to do?” he scoffed. “You’ve already killed everyone in the damn camp.”
“Whose tents are these?” I asked, gesturing between the two tarps. “I find it hard to believe that you’d leave him unattended.”
“I didn’t,” Daniels said defensively, looking up at me briefly as he tried to undo the zipper, which appeared to be stuck. “That’s my tent. I was watching him until you guys came running in here shooting up the place.”
He nodded in the direction of the other tent to illustrate.
“I wouldn’t exactly describe the events that way,” Penny said dryly from where she stood with Holm at the back of the group, watching just in case some more goons decided to show up and make another scene.
“Whatever,” Daniels said, rolling his eyes as he finally got the zipper undone and opened the tent.
It was a large tent, containing several sleeping bags and stacks of random stuff in the corners. But only one thing caught my eye right off the bat: Birn.
The missing MBLIS agent was sprawled across the sleeping bag in the corner, completely out. However, I could see the slow, rhythmic rising and falling of his chest to indicate that he was alive and well, and I didn’t immediately detect any other injuries on his person.
I squinted down at the edge of his sleeping bag, where some little hairs were clinging to it like static.
I bent down and put them between my fingers, chuckling.
“Deer hair,” I said, looking back at Holm, who was now peering in through the tent’s entrance. “Just like Bonnie and Clyde found at the original crime scene.”
“Well, I’ll be,” my partner laughed, shaking his head in wonder.
“Oh, yeah, that stuff gets everywhere around here,” Daniels said, giving the clump of hairs a distasteful look. “I can’t stop finding it all over my clothes.”
Birn, seemingly having heard us, groaned and rolled his head, his eyes flitting open.
“You slept through all that gunfire, but our voices wake you up?” Muñoz asked him, her good hand on her hip as she grinned down at him.
“Sylvia,” he muttered, his face breaking into a watery smile. “I knew you’d show up at some point. A little slow, though, if I do say so myself.”
“Slow?” she repeated, arching an eyebrow at him. “You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed that night. I’m not letting you go off on your own ever again. Clearly, you can’t be trusted.”
They both burst out laughing at this, though the sound coming from Birn was weak. It was all in good fun, and I could practically see all the tension Muñoz had been carrying over the past week release itself as she realized that her partner was alive and well, if in need of some well-earned rest and recuperation.
“Thank you,” I said, turning to Daniels, though I hated to say it. I was grateful to him, though, for having the forethought not to kill Birn after he took him.
“No problem,” he said with a shrug. “I guess.”
I had to chuckle at this. Daniels was going to have nothing but problems for a while yet, but he seemed relieved, in a way, to have this whole thing out from under him. He didn’t have to panic about what to do with Birn anymore, at least.
I now rose and got a chance to look around the rest of the tent. There was stuff all over the place, mostly stacks of books and papers and some maps of the area. There was a map of Melody Key, a map of Pye Key, and one of Crab Key, as well. I even caught sight of one of Little Torch out of the corner of my eye.
Then something else caught my attention.
“What’s this?” I asked, crossing over to a large bottle sitting atop a stack of boxes containing various files.
I pulled the bottle down to examine the long wooden ship sitting inside it, elegant and fine. I recognized it immediately as Lafitte’s ship.
“I don’t know, man, this isn’t my tent,” Daniels said, getting annoyed at the subject again.
“Well, whose tent is it?” I asked him, allowing more than a hint of annoyance to seep into my own tone then.
“Some of those excavator guys that couple sent down here when they pulled out that ship,” he explained with a shrug. “They’re the ones who first started using this as a home base of sorts. I only met them a few times. They haven’t been down in a while. They just left all this stuff, and I was afraid to throw it away. Thought it might be important.”
He sounded hopeful on this last part like maybe there might be something of value here. Something he could sell or use to get a better pl
ea deal with the authorities.
“Thanks, we’ll pack it up and determine that for ourselves,” I told him with a nod.
He seemed disappointed but satisfied with this reaction. His expression seemed to say that at least all this crap wouldn’t be his problem anymore.
“What are you thinking?” Penny asked, coming up behind my shoulder and peering down at the ship in the bottle. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah, it is,” I said with a nod, completely mesmerized by the artifact. “As for what it means, I’m going to have to work that one out for myself. I have a feeling this whole thing isn’t quite over yet.”
Epilogue
“So, how’s that for a follow-up to the zombie story?” I asked my captive audience when I was finished, taking a long sip from the bottom of my beer glass as I did so, clearing out the last of the drink.
The old man, Mark, the bar girl Rhoda, and the kids were all clustered around me then, even tighter than they had been before, listening intently to the story. Mark had all but forgotten his drink, and Rhoda had forgotten her work, not that there were any other customers in the bar at that hour. It was getting late by then, and it was a weeknight.
“I mean… I still want to hear the zombie story,” Mark chuckled after a period of silence. “But that was a nail biter all on its own.”
“So, did you find that couple?” Ty asked eagerly, leaning forward on the bar and nearly spilling what was left of his drink. “Did you ever see Lafitte’s ship again? Did any of the stuff in the tent help you find the Dragon’s Rogue?”
I laughed and shook my head at him.
“All in good time, my young friend, all in good time,” I assured him. “But not tonight.”
I could almost hear them all collectively sighing as they realized that they weren’t going to get all their questions answered tonight. It had practically become a routine by now for me to finish one of my thrilling stories, only for my gaggle of fans to complain that I hadn’t told them enough yet. Even Rhoda looked disappointed as she started to gather up our now empty glassware.
I supposed that I should take that as a compliment. If they complained that they wanted to hear more, there must be something to like about my stories.
“Did you ever see that sailor woman again?” Jeff asked, always having his priorities straight. “She sounded really cool.”
“She was pretty cool,” I said, laughing in agreement. “And we’ve stayed in touch, from time to time.”
“Did she come out of retirement, then?” he asked. “It sounded like she enjoyed working with you guys after all those dull days on the water.”
“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head and waving my hands in the air for emphasis. “Penny definitely enjoyed the excursion, don’t get me wrong, but she wasn’t lying when she said she enjoyed retirement. Plus, I’m sure she’d agree with me when I say that there’s no such thing as a dull day on the water.”
I winked at the kid, and he grinned back at me.
“Sounds like you were lying, though,” Mark said with a shrug. “You kept telling everyone that you were never going to retire. And yet, here you are. Tending bar after having what sounds like one of the most interesting careers that I could imagine. How’d things turn out like this for you?”
The old man gestured around at the bar, oh so different now than back when it was Mike’s Tropical Tango Hut, with all the tiki decorations replaced with knick-knacks and mementos from my storied career.
“Now that is definitely a story for another time,” I chuckled, glancing down at my watch. “You kids are going to be missed back at camp if you don’t get out of here soon.”
I gave them each a stern look, and Ty’s face fell.
“Man, can’t you tell us just one more?” he pleaded.
“A whole other story?” I laughed, gaping at him. “You’ve already been here for hours. That’ll take all night! Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you come back. You can flatter me by listening to my old stories some other time.”
“But what about the Dragon’s Rogue?” Ty complained, indicating no intention to budge from his seat at the bar. “You never even told us if Tessa got back to you after her trip to the Yukon! Or the FBI, did they ever get back to you about Lafitte’s ship?”
“Well, they would’ve had to talk to the FBI about what they found in the Keys,” Mac scoffed at her friend as if this should be obvious to him. “There’s no way MBLIS didn’t tell them, or they weren’t interested in this couple.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Ty cried, throwing his arms across the bar in frustration.
I exchanged a look with Mark, his eyes sparkling as they met mine as if to marvel at the youth and gusto of these kids. It still amazed me that they were at all interested in what I had to say.
“But you wouldn’t want the FBI to sweep in and steal another one of your cases,” Charlie pointed out. “That wouldn’t be fair, even if they would be interested in what you found.”
“They were more than interested, yes,” I admitted, unable to help myself from providing this little detail. “And we did have to tell them. We’re all law enforcement, after all, working toward the same common goal. Who gets credit for a closed case really doesn’t matter at the end of the day. But I really shouldn’t get into it. It’s getting late.”
As I spoke, my eyes drifted up to one of the larger items hanging on the walls of my bar, though it was so tucked away and blended so well into the brown walls that it wouldn’t surprise me if none of my guests had noticed it before.
“Wait, what’s that?” Jeff asked, following my gaze and pointing at the dirty old map hanging on the wall, off to the corner away from the ship in the bottle. “It looks like the east coast of the US, but it’s really old.”
He stood up and squinted at it, trying to get a better view. It was indeed a very old map of the eastern coast of the United States, though I suspected that if my young friend looked closer, he would find that it didn’t quite line up with the maps he always studied in school, in more ways than one.
“Oh, I think that would be a good place to pick up next time,” I said, winking at him and shooting the kids a half-grin. “That is quite the story…”
Author’s Note
Hey, if you got here, I just want you to know that you’re awesome! I wrote this book just for someone like you, and if you want another one, it is super important that you leave a review.
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