The lobby’s sliding glass doors parted and I walked in, giving a nod to Mariposa. “Good morning, Mari.”
Mari glared at me, her dark eyes trailing me as I walked.
I nodded at the other girl behind the counter. “Morning, Alicia.” Alicia gave me a hard stare as well. Talk about a hostile work environment. And here I was the one getting in trouble?
“Say good morning to Mack for me, will you?” I said as I breezed past the counter.
“Maclynn didn’t show up for work this morning,” said Mari. “No doubt your fault once again. This is the third time this week that she’s been late. No call, no show. Third warning is a fireable offense.”
I came to a screeching halt and turned around. At this point, I was pretty sure I’d be blamed if the sun didn’t rise in the morning, but I felt the need to defend myself nonetheless. “Sorry, Mari. I can’t take credit for this one. Mack wasn’t even with me last night.”
“Dumped her already, huh?” smiled Alicia, a hand on her hip.
I made a face. “She just wasn’t with me, okay. What time was she supposed to be here?”
“Eight o’clock, same as always,” said Mari.
I glanced down at my watch. It was a quarter to nine. “She probably just overslept. I’ll give her a call.”
Mari’s hard stare bristled the hair on my arms.
“What!” I snapped, lifting my brows and throwing both hands up defensively. “It’s not my fault, I swear. I’ll admit, the other two times were probably my fault. But today’s not my fault.”
I walked away. Pulling my phone out of my shirt pocket, I dialed Mack’s number. It rang at least a dozen times and then told me that her voice mailbox hadn’t been set up yet. I’d had three missed calls from Mack the night before but hadn’t bothered to return any of them because of the Gull Island fiasco. And by the time I’d been properly chewed out by each of Francesca’s brothers and gotten home, it was late, and I’d been too exhausted to entertain.
Even though I loathed texting, I fired off a quick text.
G’morning, Mack. Sleep okay? You better get to work. Mari’s in a mood. She said she’s gonna fire you if you don’t show up soon. I’ll call you later.
“Drunk!” called Francesca from the lobby’s doors.
I turned to find Officer Francesca Cruz dressed in street clothes once again. She wore short black shorts with frayed hems, a grey tank top, and an open black-and-grey plaid shirt with cutoff sleeves. Her shiny black hair still looked slightly damp and hung down straight past her shoulders. She certainly didn’t look like a cop. She looked like just a regular resort guest. A very sexy resort guest.
I smiled at her, ignoring the look of disdain I earned from both Alicia and Mari for doing so. “Hey! Good morning, gorgeous.” And then, just to get Alicia and Mari back for being so hostile, I slung an arm over Francesca’s shoulder and kissed her on the temple. “Thanks for coming.”
Walking side by side towards the dining room, Francesca promptly shot me a look of surprise and returned my arm to my side with a sweep of her hand across her shoulder. “You know my brothers are pretty pissed at you.”
I winced. “Yeah. I know they are. And each and every one of them told me just how mad they really were. I didn’t think they were holding back.” I grinned at her. “But don’t worry, I’m sure insurance will cover the boat.”
“You better hope it does.”
I waggled my eyebrows at her. “But if we can figure out how to get Pam back without giving the kidnappers the money, then I’d be able to buy them a new boat. Maybe I’ll even throw in an extra one just for their trouble. Think that’ll make them like me again?”
“Drunk!” she breathed. “You can’t be serious! After what went down last night, you still want to try and get Pam back without handing over the cash? Are you crazy?”
I shrugged. “I hate the idea of parting with that kind of money. It’s my safety net.”
“You saw what they did last night! They’re gonna kill her if you don’t give it up!”
I put a hand back on her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “Relax. We’re gonna figure something out.” I pointed to a table where Al already sat, sipping on a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper. “Hey, Al.”
Al folded the paper and waved it in the air as a hello. “Good morning,” he said to both of us. Then he turned his attention to our guest. “Francesca, you look radiant as always.”
“Good morning, Al. How’re the arms?” she asked, taking the seat I pulled out for her at the table.
Al examined the sides of his forearms. Some of the shrapnel from the night before had struck him before I’d gotten him rolled over, leaving him with some cuts and bruises and one long strip of red, raw flesh that was now covered with a glossy coating. “Eh, Evie cleaned me up. No worries. I’ll live.”
“What’d she have to say about the events of the evening?” I asked, fearing Evie’s wrath.
“She said I’m not allowed to play with you off resort property anymore,” grunted Al.
“I figured that’s what she’d say. I can’t say I don’t disagree with her.”
“Your opinion doesn’t count,” he snapped. “If I’d listened to you and stayed on that boat last night, I’d have been blown into a million pieces.”
I rolled my eyes, nodding. I’d heard it a million times on the way home from the boat trip. “You’re a broken record, Al. You need some new material.”
“We’re a team, Drunk. You can’t discount a member of your team.”
“One of these times, you’re really gonna get hurt,” I said. “And then what?”
Al shrugged. “And then I’ll have a good story to tell.”
“If you survive.”
“If I don’t, then I don’t. I’m eighty-seven years old. I don’t expect to live forever. I just gotta figure out how to convince Evie that it’s safe for me to hang out with you again.”
Francesca nodded as she grimaced. “My brothers aren’t very excited for me to hang out with you again either.”
My mouth gaped. “I think I missed the part where this became all my fault! Guys, I didn’t tell the bad guys to kidnap Pam and hold her for ransom! And I didn’t tell the bad guys to blow up your brother’s boat!”
“You could’ve just made it easy and given them the money when they first asked for it,” said Al.
“I mean, yeah, there’s that. But you both know the United States doesn’t negotiate with terrorists, and I’m a US citizen,” I argued weakly.
Al’s watery eyes swung up to meet mine in shock. He shook his head and swung his hand across the table, chopping the air decisively. “No. Now, after all of that, someone could’ve been killed. Pam could’ve been killed. She could be dead right now. I’m not going to allow you to play with her life like this. Now, enough is enough. When the kidnappers call back, you will set up a time and place to exchange Pam for the money. And that’s that.”
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
Al swatted my hands away. “Enough with the jokes! I’m being serious!”
I sighed. I knew he was being serious. “Fine. I’ll give ’em the money,” I whispered, keeping my fingers crossed beneath the table. “As soon as they call again, we’ll get the drop set up.”
Al reached across the table and patted me on the shoulder. “Attaboy. I take it you haven’t heard from them yet?”
“No, but I’m sure I’ll get a call sometime this morning. Harry’s definitely going to wanna gloat about blowing up the boat.”
“I wish you had a real name for this guy so I could track him down. My brothers wanna kick the ever-living crap outta him.”
“Oh, trust me, I’d like to do the same,” I said, wishing I really did have a name. Not that he would have given me a real name.
It wasn’t until we’d finished eating breakfast when the call we’d been waiting for finally came through. Once again the number showed as restricted.
“Drunk here,” I sai
d, reaching across the table to steal one of the pens Francesca had brought with her.
“Do you fear me now, Daniel?”
“I’m sorry, who am I speaking to?”
“Didn’t I say no more games, Daniel? You know damned good and well who you’re talking to,” said the voice on the other end of the phone. I could hear the anger seething in his words.
“I’m not trying to play any more games,” I said honestly. “I was just asking who I was speaking to. You never did tell me your name.”
“My name?” he sounded surprised.
“Sí, tu nombre.”
He was quiet for a moment. When he came back on he sounded a little calmer. “How about you just call me Dexter?”
“Dexter?” I nearly choked as I swallowed a ball of spit. “Like the psychotic character on the TV show?”
“If that’s what trips your wire, then yes, like the psychotic character on that TV show.”
I rubbed the scruff that had grown back on my chin and narrowed my eyes. “Is that your real name, or can you just kinda see yourself in him?”
The man on the phone sighed. “Let’s just say I appreciate his coolness under pressure.”
“So Dexter isn’t your real name, then?” I pressed.
“Daniel. Do you really think I’d give you my real name so you can go do your little digging and hunt me down after this is all said and done?”
“Well, my mother always says it doesn’t hurt to ask questions.”
“Aww, isn’t that sweet,” he purred. “Alright, now, enough about your mother, let’s talk about the current state of events, shall we? Thanks to your little excursion last night, plans have now changed.”
Even though he couldn’t see it, I wagged my finger in the air. “Oh yeah, speaking of last night. You owe my friend a boat, by the way.”
“No, I think you owe your friend a boat. It’s not my fault his boat got in the way of my missile. But, now that you know I’m serious about my threats, are you ready to listen?”
I sighed into the phone. “Do I have a choice?”
“We always have a choice, Daniel.”
I groaned. “Fine, what’s up?”
“Tomorrow at precisely eight o’clock p.m., I will call you and we will set up the drop location. You’ll need to be ready to move quickly. You need to be alone, and if I see that anyone is following you, Pam dies. In the meantime, you should have the cash ready to go. Once again, no funny business. No dye packs, tracking devices, nothing. Got it?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“And, Daniel, I saved my last missile for you.”
“That’s very kind of you, but you really didn’t need to.”
“Mess up again and it’s all yours.”
I swallowed hard.
Al pointed at me then. “Ask about Pam,” he whispered.
“But how do I know that Pam’s even still alive?”
“Oh, I can assure you. She is.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust a guy named Dexter.”
There was a pause before I heard a sigh. “Just a second.”
There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the phone. Seconds passed, and then all of a sudden I heard a squeal and then a thud. “Danny?” said Pam into the phone. “I-is that you?”
“Pam, are you alright?” Her terror filled voice sped up the adrenaline in my veins.
“No, I-I’m scared. They’re gonna kill me!”
“Pam, where are you?” I shouted into the phone. “Are you still on the yacht?”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” chided Dexter. “That would be against the rules, Daniel. And remember. From now on, you’re playing by my rules or I’ll call this whole thing off, and I think you know what that means for Pam.”
“You better not lay another finger on her,” I spat into the phone. “Or I’ll lay a finger on you.”
“Mmmm, sure you will, Daniel. Alright. Be ready tomorrow night. Eight o’clock is go time.”
30
The next evening, I sat in the backseat of Francesca’s Samurai, smashed between a one-hundred-and-seventy-five-pound Great Dane and the window. Hugo glared at me as I rocked from side to side to keep the blood moving in my legs and butt. “He’s staring at me,” I whined.
“Because you’re rocking,” said Francesca. “Quit rocking.”
“I’m trying to stay out of his line of drool.”
She reached across Al’s lap and opened the glove compartment. Pulling out a hand towel, she flung it over her shoulder. “Here. I always keep a slobber rag handy.”
Curling my lip, I took the rag from her. “Thanks.” I blotted awkwardly at Hugo’s drippy jowls. I’d never really considered myself a dog person. Some of my buddies had dogs, but I’d never known quite how to be around a dog. They made me nervous the way they stared at me and quietly begged to get bites of my sandwiches or my fries. I’d never been fond of sharing my food. “Here ya go, buddy, let’s get you cleaned up, huh?”
Hugo groaned at me like I was annoying him, but I persevered. I was just thankful that he’d gotten over his wanting-to-eat-me phase. His groan at least meant we were now on speaking terms.
It was a warm, humid evening. A breeze blew through the dimly lit vehicle, bringing with it a cacophony of nature’s finest instruments: the tree frogs, coquis, geckos, and crickets. The powerfully sweet perfume of night-blooming jasmine counteracted the random air biscuits Hugo seemed to think appropriate to float in the packed vehicle.
“It’s after eight. Why hasn’t he called yet?” I let my head fall backwards against the headrest.
“Be patient,” said Al. “He’ll call.”
“What if he killed her already?” The thought had been on my mind since I’d woken up that morning. The closer and closer it had gotten to go time, the more I’d worried about the plan I’d concocted. Was I doing the right thing? Would Dexter live up to his end of the deal? Would we actually get Pam back alive?
Francesca shook her head. “He wouldn’t have done that. He’s not that stupid.”
My eyes widened as I hugged the duffle bag of greenbacks to my chest. “Oh, yes, he is. He’s stupid and psychotic. It’s a dangerous combination.”
“I agree with that statement, which is why we downloaded that app to your phone. Al and I will be listening to everything you say, so if anything happens, you just say the magic word and we’ll be there.”
I dropped the phone into the front pocket of my shirt and smirked. “What should the magic word be? Abracadabra?”
Al swung his hand backwards. “Lay off the jokes, kid. You have to take this seriously. They could’ve killed all of us when that boat exploded. Pam’s life is in jeopardy. Now that you’re really gonna hand over the seven million dollars, it’s not the time to let your mouth get you into trouble.”
Al had gone with me earlier in the morning to withdraw the cash from the island bank. He’d helped me make sure that it was all there, and then we’d put the stacks of cash inside the biggest duffle bag we could find. That very duffle bag now sat on my lap, heavy with its unspent riches.
Francesca turned around in her seat so she could face me. “Let’s not get complicated, alright? The magic word is help, Drunk. Easy as that. Can you remember it?”
“How could I forget? That’s about the most unimaginative magic word I’ve heard in my life. Help. That’s like asking Dexter, ‘Can you excuse me for a moment while I alert the cops that I’m in need of assistance?’”
She frowned. “You got a better word?”
“Of course I do. Anything is better than help.”
“Okay, go ahead. We’ll use your word as the magic word.”
I nodded and my lips plumped out in front of my face as I searched for a word. “Hmm, how about Aloysius?” I said, tossing out the first thing that popped into my head.
“Aloysius?” she repeated, her lip curled.
“Mm-hmm. It’s a name. You know, like Rumpelstiltskin.”
“Why in the world would Aloysius b
e the magic word?” barked Al.
Even Hugo looked at me like I was daft.
I shrugged and looked out the window. “I don’t know. It’s catchy. If I ever have a son, I might name him Aloysius. Aloysius Drunk. Doesn’t that sound kind of smooth?”
Al waved a hand in the air. “No, no, no. If you have a son, his name has to be Daniel Drunk the third. I don’t think you have a choice in that matter. It’s what you do when you’re a junior.”
Francesca curled a lock of hair around her finger as she looked in her rearview mirror at me. “You’re a junior too? Like Solo?”
“Yeah.” I curled my lip.
“Did people call you Junior when you were a kid?” she asked.
“Only my Pops calls me Junior.”
“What does your mom call you?”
“Terrence. Evie calls me Terrence too.”
“I thought I heard Evelyn call you Terrence the other day at lunch. I wondered what that was about.”
“It’s my middle name,” I admitted. “Mom calls my pops Danny, so she’s always called me by my middle name.”
Francesca nodded and turned to look out the window. “Sounds about right.”
“I was Terrence in elementary school, but when I started over in middle school, I started just going by Drunk. I had a couple of holdout teachers who insisted on calling me Daniel, but for the most part, everyone I’ve ever known since has called me Drunk. Sometimes I even forget my name’s Daniel,” I said.
I glanced over at Hugo and then shoved past him, planting my elbows into the backs of the two headrests. I stuck my head into the front seat so it hovered over the center console. “Your dog walker called you Frankie the other day. So, now that we’re getting to know each other on a more personal level, can I start calling you Frankie now?”
Drunk on a Boat Page 15
