Wild Tide

by Tripp Ellis

  Wild Tide

  Tyson Wild Book Four

  Tripp Ellis

  Copyright © 2019 by Tripp Ellis

  All rights reserved. Worldwide.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents, except for incidental references to public figures, products, or services, are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental, and not intended to refer to any living person or to disparage any company’s products or services. All characters engaging in sexual activity are above the age of consent.

  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, uploaded, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter devised, without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Welcome

  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

  Author’s Note

  Max Mars

  Connect With Me

  Welcome

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  1

  “I’m sorry, am I interrupting your beauty sleep?” Sheriff Wayne Daniels barked into the phone. His harsh voice blasted through the tiny speaker as I held it to my ear.

  “Yeah, kind of,” I said with a healthy dose of sarcasm, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

  “It’s not helping. You’re still ugly,” Daniels quipped. Where’s that numb-nuts friend of yours?”

  “He’s in Miami.”

  “What’s he doing there?”

  “I don’t know,” I stammered, knowing full well what JD was doing there.

  “I tried calling him but he won’t pick up. What the hell am I paying you two for? You’re never around?”

  “You’re not paying us, remember? We’re volunteers,” I grumbled.

  “Well, get your volunteer ass out of bed and meet me on the dock in five minutes. I’m picking you up. We’ve got another body.”

  Sheriff Daniels hung up the phone without supplying any further details. I’d been back in Coconut Key less than a week and there was already trouble on the horizon.

  I crawled out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts and slipped on a T-shirt. I grabbed my Kydex holster and press-checked my weapon, then slipped the holster in my waistband for an appendix carry. I put on a pair of sneakers and grabbed my shiny gold Deputy Sheriff’s badge.

  There was no time for breakfast, but I grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge as I passed through the galley.

  While we were in Monaco, Jack had contracted a serious, incurable case of yacht envy. The 70 foot, Valkyrie Sportfish he bought was the most notable symptom.

  I wasn’t complaining.

  He had named it Wild Tide in honor of yours truly. It was my new home, and I was still getting used to the accommodations. It was damn near twice the size of Jack’s old boat.

  She had two upgraded MTU 16V 2000 series engines, was tournament rigged, and had just about every factory option. The large cockpit had a teak deck, centerline bait well, tuna door, a fighting chair, and a below deck gyro-stabilizer. To port, there was a built-in fish box in the deck, and to starboard, a live bait well. Forward of the cockpit was a mezzanine with a built-in refrigerator and freezer, as well as a lounge and a retractable sunshade. Centerline of the mezzanine, a hatch led below to the main engine room. The engines were immaculate, painted in Awlgrip white, making a top speed of 43 knots.

  The boat had sleek, aggressive lines. The hull was painted in navy, with a white superstructure. She had an upgraded Lewmar bow anchor with 350 feet of anchor chain.

  The salon was nothing short of luxurious. Upon entry, there was an L-shaped setee to starboard, with storage below. To port, a staircase led up to the flybridge. There was a day head positioned near the main entrance to the salon. A high/low flatscreen TV provided entertainment for the salon with satellite capability.

  Forward of the main salon was the galley, complete with microwave, ice maker, refrigerator, and freezer. There was a dual sink, glass stovetop, microwave, dishwasher, and trash compactor. Opposite the galley, to starboard, was a dining area with high/low table.

  Just aft of the galley, to port, was a bar with an ice maker and stem storage. Forward of the galley was a storage area that housed the A/V systems. The starboard stairs led down to four cabins, including a crew cabin with stacked bunks that had direct access to the engine room.

  A few steps down the companionway was the master suite, to port. It had a queen berth, en suite with stall shower, large flatscreen display, and luxurious cherry-wood panelling.

  Adjacent to the master was a full size stackable washer and dryer. Another compartment of stackable bunks offered modest accommodations for guests, and a VIP stateroom at the bow with a queen berth and en suite provided a more luxurious stay.

  The flybridge was essentially a smaller, second salon. There was an L-shaped settee to starboard, and to port, a minibar with refrigerator and ice maker. Forward of the compartment was the state-of-the-art helm with seating for five. Multiple displays provided a variety of options and information. There were controls for underwater lighting, a VHF radio, engine monitors, throttle control, bow and stern thruster joysticks, gyro controls, shipboard monitoring, FLIR, and night vision. There were depth meters, SONAR, GPS navigation, and a host of other controls. Aft of the flybridge was a skydeck with helm controls, and a small settee.

  I didn’t ask how much JD paid for the boat, and I didn’t want to know.

  I moved through the salon and stepped into the cockpit and breathed in the fresh salty air of the morning. Gulls squawked overhead, and the amber rays of morning sun hit my face, warming my skin.

  I paused for a moment to enjoy the brief calmness before the chaos.

  I met Sheriff Daniels as he pulled to the end of the dock in his patrol boat. I climbed on board and said good morning to Brenda—the medical examiner, Bill—a crime scene photographer, and Roger—a forensics guy.

  Daniels throttled up and piloted the boat out of the harbor, then brought the boat on plane. We skated across the sea, smacking the waves, and a fine mist of saltwater sprayed my face with each undulation.

  I didn’t bother asking what was going on. I’d find out soon enough. Besides, Sheriff Daniels probably didn’t know any more details than I did.

  Unfortunately, another body turning up in Coconut Key was nothing unusual. The island paradise certainly had a dark side.

  2

  The mangled body lay on the deck of a fishing trawler, twisted in a net. The skin was pale and ghostly, and the carcass looked like it had
an encounter with a propeller or two.

  Large chunks of flesh were missing, and the edges were frayed—the body had provided a few tasty morsels for numerous sea creatures.

  A few fish flopped on the deck beside the body, gasping for air, but the victim had long since drawn his last breath. The man's face was bloated, and his opened eyes were milky orbs that stared into nothing, like a zombie's eyes. He had dark ratty hair, twisted and frazzled from the sea. He wore shorts, a T-shirt, and deck shoes.

  The smell emanating from the body was enough to curl your nose hairs. That, mixed with the fishy odor of the boat, made me glad I had skipped breakfast.

  Gulls squawked overhead, hovering on the breeze. They swooped down to the deck, trying to peck a few morsels from the remains.

  A deckhand kept shooing them away.

  Brenda went to work immediately, examining the body. Flashes from the crime scene photographer lit up the area.

  The fishing boat rocked back and forth with the waves. Roger and Bill did their best to steady themselves, but they didn't look too fond of being on the water. Roger’s skin tone wasn't that far off from the victim’s, and he looked like he was going to grab the gunwale at any moment and make a contribution to the sea.

  "When did you find the body?" Sheriff Daniels asked.

  "Maybe half an hour ago," the skipper said. "We called you right away."

  The skipper had dark hair, a weathered face, and a chin made of steel. A few days of stubble peppered his face, and his crooked smiled revealed more than a few missing teeth. His skin was dark and leathery from years in the sun. This was a man who worked his knuckles to the bone.

  "Has anyone touched the body?" Daniels asked.

  "We pulled him on board, set him on the deck, then called you,” the skipper said. “There may have been some incidental contact. But where he lay is where he lay."

  “Where did you find him?” Daniels asked.

  “Right here,” the skipper said. “We dropped anchor, and I noted the GPS coordinates.”

  Sheriff Daniels asked Brenda, “Any idea how long the body has been in the water?”

  "I'm just guessing, but this level of decomposition looks like three or four days. I'll know more when I get the remains back to the lab."

  "Any ID?" Daniels asked.

  "Brenda shook her head. "No wallet. Nothing. But Sheriff… I think this is Glenn Parker."

  The sheriff tilted his head to the side like a curious dog and surveyed the remains. "I'll be damned. I think you're right."

  "Did any of you know this man?" Sheriff Daniels asked the crew.

  They all shook their heads.

  “I’ve pulled a lot of things out of the water over the years, but never something like this,” the skipper said.

  Sheriff Daniels took down the crew’s names and contact information. After the investigators were done, we loaded the remains onto the Sheriff’s patrol boat and headed back to shore.

  "What do you think, boss? Guy falls overboard, drowns, gets carved up by a passing boat?" I postulated, hoping it would be that simple.

  "If that is Glenn Parker, he was an experienced yachtsman. I think it would be unlikely he fell overboard and drowned. But stranger things have happened," Daniels said with a shrug.

  At the station, we transferred the body to the dock and set it atop a gurney, and I helped Brenda move the remains into the ME’s van. Her office had recently moved to a more spacious facility with additional room for records storage. A separate laboratory building provided storage of the bodies, autopsy rooms, and testing facilities.

  “When is tweedle-dum getting back from Miami?” the sheriff asked.

  I shrugged.

  “The mayor’s charity gala is coming up and I want you two there. I want Coconut Key’s finest in attendance.” His face crinkled with disapproval. “Well, maybe not Coconut Key’s finest, but perhaps you two can fake it for an evening?”

  I flashed a light-hearted scowl. “Can you give me a lift back to Diver Down?”

  He looked at me like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “What do I look like, a taxicab? I’ve got work to do.”

  “Did you switch to decaf?” I asked, noting his grumpiness.

  His eyes narrowed at me.

  I flashed a bright smile to contrast his stern gaze. “Okay. I’ll catch you later.”

  I caught a cab back to Diver Down and took a seat at the bar.

  Madison was behind the counter, but she wasn't doing a very good job. A guy at the end of the bar had her completely enthralled. She hung on his every word and giggled at any attempt at humor he made. After a few minutes, I cleared my throat, trying to get her attention.

  Harlan leaned in and muttered in my ear. "Give it up. None of us exist. She hasn't taken her eyes off the pretty boy in the last 20 minutes. Been like this for the last few weeks. If the service gets much worse, I'm going over to Pirates’ Cove."

  Harlan was a regular. He had white hair, a slightly crooked nose that ended in a point, and a generally grumpy disposition.

  "Maddie," I shouted across the bar.

  She finally looked my way.

  I waved her over, and she excused herself from the pretty boy and sauntered my way.

  "Harlan needs another beer, and I'd like to get something to eat."

  Madison grabbed a longneck from a tub of ice and popped the top with an opener she slung from the back pocket of her jean shorts. She spun the opener like a gunslinger from the Wild West and slid the amber bottle across the counter to Harlan.

  "I'll take a turkey club sandwich, and a Diet Coke,” I said.

  "Anything else?" she asked, flatly.

  "Who is your new friend?"

  “His name is Ryan, and I happen to like him, so be nice."

  I smiled. "What? I'm always nice.”

  She gave me an incredulous look.

  “Is he your new boyfriend?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, he is,” she said with pride, turning her nose up.

  "Don't you think you should introduce us?"

  "You're not my father. You don't get approval over my dating life."

  "Newsflash,” I said. “I don't care who you date. I'm just mildly curious. I went away for a few weeks, and now you have a new boyfriend."

  "It's funny how life happens when you're away." She was full of sass.

  "How did you two lovebirds meet?"

  Her eyes narrowed at me. She was hesitant to answer. “Online."

  "Online? I didn't realize you were that desperate."

  She scowled at me. “I’m not desperate. It's how people meet these days. I'm a busy, successful woman, and I don't have time for socializing. I'm certainly not going to date customers, and since I have no real social life, that leaves me with few options. Not that I have to explain myself to you."

  There was a moment of tense silence before she continued, "And you, of all people, are the last one to give me dating advice. When was the last time you had a real relationship?"

  "I have real relationships all the time,” I protested.

  "One that lasted more than 15 minutes?”

  I feigned indignation. "I have plenty of relationships that last longer than 15 minutes, thank you very much. I’m no two pump chump.“

  Madison rolled her eyes. “TMI. If you'll excuse me, I have other customers."

  Harlan chuckled, then muttered, "As if they matter."

  Madison shot him a look.

  "I just call ‘em like I see ‘em, and since you’ve been dating that fella, service in here’s gone down the shitter.”

  Madison took a deep breath. "I apologize, Harlan, if I've been distracted lately."

  She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. She jiggled a little, and her bikini top drew Harlan’s attention.

  "I reckon it's okay for a pretty young thing to get distracted by a fella. As long as things get back to normal around here. Like I was telling Tyson, I'd hate to take my business elsewhere."

  Madison made a
pouty face. "Now Harlan, where would you go? The food at Pirates’ Cove sucks, and they certainly don't have the hospitality.”

  Madison leaned against the bar, pushing her cleavage together.

  Harlan’s eyes bulged at the sight. "I guess you're right about that.” He swallowed hard. “Pirates’ Cove doesn’t have near the hospitality," he said, talking into her bikini top.

  Madison chuckled and pushed away from the bar. She knew how to keep the regulars around.

  She spun around and almost skipped down the counter to Ryan. She whispered something in his ear and he climbed off the bar stool and strolled my way. He extended his hand, and a brilliant smile that belonged in a toothpaste commercial curled on his face as he introduced himself. "Nice to meet you, Tyson. I’m Ryan. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you."

  "Now I know you're lying," I said with a grin.

  He had an overly firm, try-hard grip. And there was something phony about him.

  I disliked him instantly.

  Ryan chuckled. "Seriously, Madison said her older brother always looked out for her and threatened to beat up the guys she dated if they screwed her over."

  "Well, that really hasn't changed," I said, modestly, staring him down.

  Ryan chuckled nervously again. "Well, I promise, she's in good hands.”

  “I’ll bet,” I said, dryly.

  There was an awkward pause.

  "Well, I've gotta run. It was nice meeting you.” He turned his attention to my sister. “Maddy, I'll see you tonight?"