Tuna Tango

by Steven Becker

  She seemed to respond to his touch, and suddenly reached up and grabbed his hand. Her eyes cracked open, and she shrieked. Before he could calm her, she head-butted him in the forehead. He staggered backward and sat facing her.

  “I’m sorry. We’re headed back,” he said, trying to diffuse her anger. “I’ll drop you wherever you want.”

  She grabbed the bottle of water from his hand. “Yes you will. I want money too. Ten thousand dollars you owe me, or I will go to the police. And if you don’t pay me, I will send Gregori to help me collect.”

  He didn’t doubt her threat, and added the debt to the running total in his mind that the forty dollars in his pocket would not cover. In a no win situation he came to the conclusion that heading back was probably the best solution, at least financially. He thought about Kyle and hoped he was still alive, but at this point his mission was over. He’d get back, dump the girl, call the police, and get back to work - probably what he should have done in the first place.

  He adjusted the course slightly to the south as the high rises on St. Pete Beach came into view, the pink stucco and white turrets of the Don Cesar hotel a clear landmark, and trimmed the sails. For the first time since the girl had walked into the bar last night, he felt like he was thinking with his own brain.

  Half an hour later, the first green marker slid by the port side of the boat and the seas started to subside. Another hundred yards and they were in flat water for the first time in eight hours. He started the engine and turned the boat into the wind to take the sails down. After furling the jib, he released the main sheet and went to drop the halyard, when a boat cruised past, going far faster than the no-wake signs called for.

  He rose to see who it was, but the sail blocked his view and he was thrown off balance as the wake hit the hull. Back at the winch, he tensioned the halyard and released the one-way block. The sail dropped quickly and he turned north into the intracoastal waterway, heading toward the marina.

  Jazmyn glared at him from across the cockpit. She had one of his shirts on, the tails barely covering her legs. Usually that look worked for him, but her luster had long worn off. He tried to ignore her as he turned left and entered the dock area.

  “Take me to Gregori’s,” she ordered.

  Without a word, he pushed the tiller and swung the boat back into the main channel. It would be far better to drop her there than to disembark at the marina and have to drive her somewhere. He had no desire to be seen with her.

  There was little traffic on the intracoastal today, the wind and seas keeping the fair weather boaters home. With no help from the girl, even if she actually knew how to find the house from the water, he made two wrong turns, but soon found the house. George’s boat was tied up at the dock and Will tensed, ready for a confrontation, but there was no one in sight as he eased the boat in.

  She was ready, bag in hand when the hull touched the dock, and easily jumped the one foot space.

  Before she turned to leave, she looked at him. “Ten thousand dollars. I will not forget.”

  He turned away from her, reached around the outboard engine, and slammed the boat in reverse, wanting to get out of there before George saw him. Any confrontation right now would end badly. Injured and without any kind of weapon, he stood no chance against the larger man. The lump on his forehead from where the boom had struck him was throbbing, and the state of his finances weighed heavily on his mind as he motored back to the marina.

  Chapter 16

  Will’s head was still pounding, his vision slightly blurred, plus he had a slight metallic taste in his mouth that he couldn’t pinpoint the cause of. But the relief at getting the girl off the boat almost put a smile on his face. As he stepped onto the dock at the Pass-A-Grille marina, he wavered slightly. Not sure if it was the effects of the boom striking him, the head-butt, or just being at sea for twelve hours, he struggled down the dock toward the parking lot, realizing that one of the symptoms of a concussion was not remembering the symptoms.

  Not that it mattered. Kyle’s car was still parked there, reminding him of his failure. He did a double take, looking at the car again. The windows were fogged up, a cloud of smoke filling the interior.

  Dick jumped when he knocked on the window. He cracked it and Will stepped back as the smoke started to escape. Dick was visible now, a smile on his face. “‘Sup, dude?”

  “What the hell are you doing sitting out here smoking? How is this going to help Kyle?” Will vented.

  “Easy, man. What am I supposed to do? You’re not here and Sheryl took off with that Lance dude. You know that creep that owns the place. She gave me her phone and told me to hang out and wait for you. So I’m hanging out.” He got out of the car.

  Will stood back to get away from the smoke; surely that couldn’t be good for his head. “Maybe you’d better fill me in on a few things. How did Lance get involved, and why is she with him?” He reached for the phone in Dick’s hand, thinking he might get a better answer from her directly.

  “Call Lance’s phone,” Dick said.

  Will scrolled through the contacts, found the number, and hit dial. He paced back and forth, waiting for an answer, but after half a dozen rings, the call went to voicemail. Frustrated, he left a quick message to call him back and pressed end.

  “No one answered,” he said as he returned to the car where Dick was leaning against the hood. “Let’s have it—the whole story, from when I left you on the boat.”

  He listened as Dick went through what had happened since Will left for the bar the night before. He didn’t trust Dick to remember everything, especially in this state, but at least he had an idea of what was going on now.

  He went to the curb in front of the building and sat down, realizing for the first time all day how hungry and tired he was. Sheryl’s phone was in his hand and he checked the time. Almost 5. Too late to get any work done, not that he felt up to it. He stood up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the two wet bills. Forty dollars was not going to get him far, but he needed some food.

  “Hey. You hungry?” he asked Dick. Maybe some food would help his head.

  Dick looked up suspiciously. “Who, me?”

  “Yeah. I got enough for a couple of burgers if you want to run and get them. I’ll stay here and wait for Lance and Sheryl to come back.”

  “You don’t have to ask twice,” Dick said as he went toward Will and grabbed the money from his hand. He went back to the car, started it up, and pulled out of the lot.

  Down to twenty dollars, Will thought as he stuffed the last damp bill in his pocket He was fraught with guilt about Kyle, but decided to put off the decision about what to do until Lance called back, and they could decide whether to involve the police. He was either dead or not, and in his present condition there was not much he could do about it. For now, he had to focus on the job, or he was going to be flat broke.

  He got up, opened the lock on the door, and walked through the building, trying to make mental notes of what needed to be done next, but he was too distracted to think straight. Between his head throbbing and the uncertainty about Kyle, all he wanted to do was to sit down and wait for someone to call with the answer. But he knew the best course was to try and stay busy. That would at least keep Lance happy and put some money in his pocket. Most of the work was underneath, and he would need help for that. With Kyle gone, Dick was all he had left. It was going to be hard, but he had little choice. He left the building and went to the seawall. The platform was still tied up. Unsteady, he sat down and slid on, rather than chance a fall, then freed the line. Slowly he got to his feet and moved the raft under the building.

  The raft rocked from the wake of a boat and he looked out. A large cruiser was pulling into the space between the fish house and marina. It coasted to the dock used by the fork lift to dry dock the boats. The engine cut off and he could hear voices. One of them sounded like Sheryl, and he pulled himself toward that side of the building to hear the conversation.

  He stopped fi
ve feet from the edge, hopefully invisible to the people in the boat.

  “What do we do now?” he heard Sheryl ask.

  “See if he’s here, I guess. I think that’s the boat he bought. It was the only sailboat here for sale, and the sign’s gone.”

  It was Lance. Relieved that they were back, and hoping for some guidance, he started to pull himself out of the building when he heard Kyle’s car pull up.

  Will summoned his courage and pulled himself into the open at the same time as Dick came around the corner, munching on a fry with a bag of food in his hand.

  “What’s going on here?” Will snapped as he emerged into daylight.

  Lance turned to him, allowing Sheryl time to jump onto the dock. “What’s going on here? You’re asking me? Where the hell have you been all day? I’ve lost a day’s work and had to deal with her all day, looking for you and your boy, who stuck his head where it didn’t belong.”

  Will stuttered, “I was trying to find him.”

  “Well? From the look of you, it didn’t go too well.”

  “No luck. I know George has him, but I guess you know that too. I headed out to try and find him, but had to turn back.”

  “It’s a pretty big ocean out there, if you don’t know where to look. You need to be on this job. Don’t make me regret my decision to hire you. There are plenty of guys with licenses and insurance I could have used. But I took a chance on you, and you’re letting me down.”

  Will was speechless. He knew Lance had tried to get bids from licensed contractors, but most wouldn’t even look at the job. The ones that would were almost four times the cost he had estimated. This was a side of Lance that he hadn’t seen, and he decided to keep George’s GPS to himself.

  “We’ll be back on the job tomorrow.” He looked at Dick for confirmation, but he was sitting on the curb, knuckles deep in a burger, oblivious to the conversation. “And what’s with you two?”

  Sheryl looked at Lance. “Nothing.” She moved over by Dick.

  Lance hopped off the boat to let the forklift hoist it from the water, spoke to the driver, and then turned to Will. “Tomorrow, you be on the job. I have some resources that I can get to find the boy. I’ll take care of that, just get this thing done.” He turned and walked toward his SUV.

  “What’s up with all that?” he asked Sheryl.

  “Good to see you, too. Think we can talk somewhere?” she asked. “You look bad.”

  It almost sounded as if she cared. “I’ve got to eat. You hungry?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  Will took the bag from Dick and started walking toward the boat. “You coming?”

  “Sure, the scene of the crime. I might as well see where our future went.” She looked toward the parking lot at the empty space where Lance’s SUV had been and then followed him down the dock.

  He offered a hand to help her aboard, but she declined and jumped onto the deck.

  “You want to tell me your side of this mess? I got Dick’s, but I want to hear it from you.” She sat on the same bench the girl had sat on the night before.

  Will looked at her and started to wonder about the karma of the boat. “Sure.” He opened the bag and offered her half the burger and fries. While they ate, he recounted the story from where Dick had first discovered the fish. She nodded several times, as if confirming to herself that he was telling the truth. There was no reason to mention the girl and muddy the waters, so he left her out, but told everything else.

  “What’s the deal with Lance?” he asked.

  “That guy creeps me out. I know you think he’s helping you out, but I think you’re saving his ass. I overheard a couple of suspicious conversations.”

  Will searched his memory for anything Lance had said or done that was suspicious, but came up with nothing. He wondered if she was exaggerating, but decided to let it go. “What kind of threats was he making?”

  “Not anything overt. Just that I should keep you focused on the job and not let you get involved with George. I don’t think he’s the guy you think he is. When Dick and I were in his office, he was yelling at some guy about fishing or something. It’s really suspicious that he has a processing plant, this fish house and the freezer; that’s a lot of coincidences. I’m pretty sure he’s in some kind of financial trouble, too. There were some papers on his desk from a bank.”

  “I don’t know. He’s always been good to me.”

  “As long as you do what he wants. And he needs you to finish the building. I’m telling you, there’s more here than meets the eye.”

  Will looked at her. “Why don’t you stay here if it makes you feel any better?” Afraid of rejection he added, “But if you want to go, you can take the truck.”

  “Thanks. Maybe I will stay, but just tonight. I’m pretty strung out from this. At least I’ll know where you are. From the look of your head, somebody needs to keep an eye on you.” She gave him the first kind look since she had sat down.

  “Let me go talk to Dick about tomorrow. There’s a wine cooler in the fridge if you want it.” He got up and stepped off the boat, wanting to look back at her, but deciding not to push his luck. They had been together long enough that he knew if he gave her some space, she would come around.

  Dick was still sitting on the curb when he approached. “Work tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I guess. What about Kyle?”

  “Lance said he had some connections and would take care of it. I suspect he will.” If Lance was mixed up in this, he thought, making some progress on the building might just make Kyle reappear. At least he hoped so.

  “I’m going to need to get paid soon.”

  Will nodded. “We get some work done then I can get another draw. Won’t be more than a couple of days.”

  Dick got up and went to the car. It started and he pulled out. Through the open window he yelled, “Seven o’clock,” and pulled away.

  Will went back to the building and locked the door. He had a plan for tomorrow, and with Dick’s help, they could set a couple of pilings. Enough to show Lance that he had things in hand and get some money. Now he had to figure out Sheryl. He fingered the wet twenty—the only thing remaining in his pocket—and decided a little wine wouldn’t hurt.

  ***

  “You listen to me. We need to rethink this whole thing.” Lance stood in George’s living room, fuming.

  “Shit, we got it covered. We just have to stay out of the freezer until the job’s done. Then we set the fish room up so when can unload from below, and we can crank up the operation and keep this baby running forever,” George said.

  “They know too much. Will may be a reclusive fishing guide, but the girl’s pretty smart. Taking the kid was a bad move. Now it’s about more than just the fish.”

  “They messed with our operation and I’m supposed to do nothing?” George asked.

  “I’m telling you, they are about to connect the dots. If they put us together, we’re done. I think we need to get rid of them.”

  “Now you’re seeing things my way. I got this.” George looked him in the eye for confirmation. “You usually stay away from this kind of stuff, so maybe you ought to get out of town for a couple of days. Let me take care of things here.”

  “Let him work a couple of days. We need him to finish the job. Besides being the perfect front for bringing in the fish, I need the building for my legal business. Being able to unload right from the boats as they come in will help the bottom line. With a restaurant and bar up front, that place will be a money maker.”

  “Whatever you say.” George was skeptical. He didn’t care much for the legal side of things.

  “If we want that building finished, we need to see how he’s going about it. The only other guy that was willing to work on it wanted to take the whole roof off and bring in a crane. Besides the money it would have cost, the city was going to look at that as more than 50 percent value on the building, and make us tear it down. Will is the only guy I know that can pull this off. I’m
going to get some guys to see how he’s going about it. Then he won’t matter.”

  “Damn right. I got a guy that knows some of that construction shit, too.”

  Chapter 17

  The heat in the v-berth was stifling, and although Will was exhausted, he had an uncomfortable night tossing and turning. Sometime during the night, he had gotten up and moved onto the deck, and now the sun woke him as it peeked above the horizon. He looked back at Sheryl, asleep on the couch, and it wasn’t lost on him that Jazmyn had slept in the same place the night before.

  He dismissed the women from his mind and tried to focus on the job as he climbed off the boat and looked at the building. Lance had been clear about wanting to see progress and quickly. He pulled out his phone and checked the time: 6:30. Counting on Dick showing up on time was delusional, and he knew it; he needed help, but with the single bill left in his pocket it was going to be hard to find anyone. So waiting for Dick it was.

  Dispirited, he walked across the street and got a coffee, then walked back, opened the lock and went into the building. There were two twenty-foot-long poles sitting on the floor that he needed to set today. Then tomorrow, he would be able to set the beam on top of them, and a section of the floor would be done. That should be enough work to get a paycheck, and get Kyle back if Lance was true to his word. But he needed Dick to keep the schedule.

  He finished the coffee, set the cup down, and got ready to prepare the poles. A 1 1/4-inch auger bit in the drill, he set the bit to the wood and pulled the trigger. Holes needed to be bored through the top of each pole so a pipe could be slid through in order rotate them from above and drive them into the holes while he jetted the seafloor below with a high-pressure hose. Typically, poles were set by ramming them with heavy equipment, but without removing the roof, that would be impossible.