by C J Schnier
“Thanks for the help, Romulus out,” I said, letting others know that the channel was free for use again.
Immediately the channel buzzed with the inane chatter of cruisers. I listened for a few moments to make sure nobody else tried to reach me with information. No other replies came. The cruiser’s net had been a long shot, but it had paid off beautifully. Now I just needed Andy to get back so that we could get Kelly to safety. In the meantime, I pulled out Andy’s paper charts and started searching for the landmarks that Avant Garde gave me while I waited for him to come back.
I didn’t have to wait long. Andy returned less than an hour later, flushed and sweating. He panted as he climbed aboard Romulus and then collapsed onto the dinette bench.
“Whew, it’s too hot to be running from place to place out there,” he said in between gasping breaths.
“You were running in this heat?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah, I wanted to check out as many places as possible, but I’m more out of shape than I had thought.”
“Cruising tends to do that to people. You don’t realize how sedentary you are when sailing. So no luck?”
“No,” he said, getting up from the table and moving for the fridge. “I checked six different marinas and looked at a couple of boats I saw anchored, none of them were yours.”
Andy pulled a frosty beer from the bottom of the fridge and cracked it open. He took a swig and sighed with contentment before moving back to his place at the dinette table.
“Tell me you had better luck with the cruiser’s net,” he said, sipping on his beer again.
“I did. A British gent aboard Avant Garde confirmed seeing Paramour pull into the Sunset Bay Resort and Marina last night right at sunset,” I replied.
“No shit! That will save us a ton of time hunting them down. I think I know where that marina is, near Xanadu right?”
“I’m glad you know that I had to ask the guy for landmarks and then look it up on the charts,” I said pointing to the small pile of paper maps and charts piled up on the table. “How many times have you been here Andy?”
“A few,” he answered simply. “We should get over there and scope out the situation.”
“Let’s get some stuff together so that if the chance comes up, we can take the boat right then,” I suggested.
Andy seemed to think about this for a moment and nodded in agreement.
“Grab the binoculars from the cockpit, a couple of lines out of the lazarette, and there should be some zip ties and duct tape in there as well. I’ll get the rest,” he said, taking charge of the situation.
“Right. Make sure you bring that .45 of yours. We may need it,” I reminded him.
“Oh, I’m bringing it, you can count on that,” he said.
Andy opened one of the lockers above the salon settees and pulled out a small black backpack and tossed it at me. I caught it by one of its straps and slung it on my back.
“You can put everything in there, and make sure you grab a few beers from the fridge too. We might be there a while,” he said and went into his cabin.
I packed a half-dozen beers into the backpack as well as the line, duct tape, zip ties, and binoculars. It sagged with the weight, but it was still comfortable enough. Andy came out with a small bag of his own, his .45 pistol tucked into the waistband of his shorts. He looked up at me, nodded once, and started moving for the companionway.
“Let’s do this,” he said once he had reached the top of the stairs.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked as we walked side by side down the dock like what I imagined must have looked like a couple of bad-asses from an action movie.
“Kick ass and take names,” Andy replied with a dashing grin. We were both feeling more badass than we had any right to, but fantasy is entirely different from reality.
“How about something slightly more detailed there Duke Nukem.”
“Ok fine. How’s this for a plan? We take a cab down to that marina, we find a place near the docks and scope it out. Once we know he is on the boat, we can let ourselves aboard and take him by surprise.”
“Simple, but effective. Just remember, he’s going to be on edge. He’ll spook easy, and I doubt we’ll be able to surprise him at this point. Luckily there are none of my guns on Paramour right now. But he did shoot the dinghy motor, and he had a gun when he attacked us, so he is most likely still armed. We need to be extra careful,” I cautioned.
“Roger that. We’ll scope out the situation really well. We will figure out a way to get Kelly back without getting ourselves killed. Now come on, let’s get a cab,” Andy said walking for the marina office instead of through the breezeway to the street.
“Where are you going?” I asked, confused.
“If I’m paying for a slip you’re damned sure I’m going to make sure I get my money’s worth,” he said and pulled open the heavy glass door to the office.
Following him in, my eyes had to adjust to the relative dimness. The marina office was clean and modern, though lacking in any sort of character. Promotional posters hung in frames on the pastel blue walls as well as an oversized chart of Freeport and Grand Bahama Island.
A clean-cut man in a well-pressed polo shirt sat at a desk in front of the far wall. The nameplate on the desk read ‘Terrance White,’ in large bold print, and just under it, in smaller print, the singular title of ‘Dockmaster.’ Terrance had not even bothered to look up from his paperwork as we approached.
“Hello Terry,” Andy said dropping into one of the two fabric overstuffed chairs in front of the desk.
“My name is Terrance, not Terry. Can I help you Mr. Sheets?” Terrance White asked, not looking up or even bothering to hide the contempt in his voice.
“Why yes, I do believe you can,” Andy said as he leaned back in the chair and kicked his feet up on the desk, crossing them and then recrossing them for added effect.
Terrance White looked up from his paperwork to Andy’s worn boots and frowned. He then cut his eyes over to me. Taking my cue from Andy, I just shrugged at him and leaned against the wall, making sure to knock one of the perfectly arranged posters askew.
“We need a cab driver, one we can hire to use as a personal driver to take us anywhere we wish to go, whenever we wish to go there,” said Andy.
Terrance White looked at Andy full in the face for the first time since we entered and wrinkled his nose as if he had gotten a whiff of something entirely unpleasant.
“Why would I do that for you?” he asked, disgusted.
“Lots of reasons, Terry. Customer service, because you told me that if I needed anything to ask you, and my personal favorite, because if you don’t, we’re going to come visit you every hour.”
Just as Terrance was about to open his mouth in protest, Andy flicked his foot and sent the brass engraved nameplate flying from the desk.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Andy asked, eyes glittering with devilish delight.
“What the hell makes you think you can…” Terrance started, but a crash interrupted him.
I had moved my shoulder that I was leaning on and had sent the framed poster plummeting to the ground at the perfect moment. The poster landed on its corner, and its protective pane exploded outwards in a shower of glass.
“Oh damn, I’m so sorry. Maybe I should go stand by this other poster,” I said moving across the room to the next closest poster.
“No! Fine! I know a guy. Andre is his name, I’ll call him. Just get out of my office!” cried Terrance.
“I knew you’d warm up to us, Terry.”
Chapter Sixteen
Andy and I waited for Andre on a low concrete wall that bordered the street and marina property for several hundred feet. Thankful for what little breeze there was, we still found a couple of spots in the shade under a small tree. The sweltering summer sun had both of us sweating through our shirts by the time a beat up red Nissan Sentra with peeling and faded paint rattled to a stop next to us.
The tinted dri
ver side window rolled down, squealing in protest, and a dreadlocked local man stuck his out head.
“You Mr. Sheets?” the man asked.
“That’s me,” Andy answered. “I take it you must be Andre?”
“Yes sir. I hear you two need a driver for the day. Hop on in here, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
“What’s your going rate?” Andy asked, concerned about his limited funds.
“What does it matter?” I interrupted. “As long as it has air conditioning it is worth it!”
“Yes sir, plenty o’ cold air in here. Today is my day off, I make a deal wit you. For sixty dollars I’ll take you wherever you want ta go and hang around for you. You want ta go somewhere else, I bring you. You want to stay and have a good time, I wait,” Andre said, pitching his offer.
“Sixty bucks?” Andy asked, his brow curling with suspicion.
“And not a penny more. We have a deal?”
“Sixty bucks then. We have a deal.”
“Good, now let’s get out of the heat before we both melt,” I said walking around to the back passenger door.
The door handle stuck for a moment and required a slight jiggle to open the door. When I did get the door open a combination of smells hit me in the face. Air freshener, marijuana, and stale cigarettes were the foundation of the pungent odor. Collecting myself, I held my breath and slid into the rear seat.
The Nissan’s interior was just as shabby as its exterior, perhaps even more so. The ugly old gray fabric upholstery was threadbare and dotted with burn marks. The ceiling liner sagged and had to be pinned up by safety pins in a precise manner, making a sort of pattern on the roof. Yet, the seats and carpet were clean and vacuumed, and the air conditioning was indeed cold. The old car was well past its prime, but it appeared as if Andre still took some pride in it.
Andy slid into the front passenger seat, wrinkled his nose at the smell, and took in the condition of the well-worn vehicle.
“Dis is my personal car that I use to pick up fares on the weekend. I drive a taxi during the week. She may be old, but she still gets me there,” Andre said, noticing Andy’s disgusted face.
“That’s all you can ask of any car I guess. I’m sorry, after dealing with Terrance in the marina I half expected a Rolls Royce to roll up. You know, since he’s so proper and all,” Andy said, trying to appease our driver.
“Don’t let him fool you, Mr. Sheets. Terrance lives in a tiny shack with his mum. He has been real stuck up since his promotion to dockmaster, but in reality, he’s still just a poor man like me.”
“How long ago did he get promoted?” I asked.
“Oh, only a few months ago. He was jus a dockhand before dat. Dis job is his way out of poverty. You know, to make a better life for hisself and his family,” Andre explained.
I felt sorry for treating him so poorly in his office. He had been a prick to us when we had arrived, but in hindsight, it was just him doing his job to the best of his ability. Terrance had to keep the owners happy, or his chance at a better life would vanish, leaving him in the slums fighting to survive. I made a mental note to tip him well once we got Kelly and Paramour back.
“Well I guess we should cut him some slack then,” Andy said after a moment. “Well Andre, you’re stuck with us for the day. Our first stop is Sunset Resort and Marina.”
“I think you mean Sunrise Resort, not sunset,” he corrected.
“Maybe, what was it near again Chase?”
“It was near Running Mon marina and a little east of Xanadu Marina, if I remember right,” I answered.
“Yeah, dat is Sunrise Resort. I can take you there, no problem,” Andre said.
He put the car in drive and motored down the road headed west. Bright tropical-colored houses and fancy manicured resorts passed by in a surreal never-ending procession.
In the distance I could make out a cruise ship, towering over the trees and resorts like a metal behemoth. Every once in a while we would catch a glimpse of the turquoise blue waters, but more often than not, the overdevelopment of the tourist trade obscured the view. This was not the Bahamas I had come to see, it was little more than a fancy tourist trap.
Andre made slow but steady progress through the streets. Despite the development, the natural beauty of the place was astounding, but my mind had become focused on finding Kelly. Freeport was larger than I had ever expected. Hiding someone in a city this size wouldn’t be hard. I could only hope that Kelly was still on the boat.
“So why are you headed for Sunrise Resort?” Andre asked, breaking me from the spiral of worry I was heading down.
“We’re looking for someone on a boat,” I said.
“A friend of yours?” Andre asked.
“Not exactly,” I replied.
“And you're sure they are there? Sunrise isn’t the most popular marina.”
“Another cruiser said he saw the boat there, so I guess we’ll see.”
“Well here it tis, we are pulling up now,” he said with the practiced air of a cab driver.
Andre pulled into a circular driveway in front of a large two-story tangerine building. Despite the sun-faded shingles, the resort looked quite lovely. The building, however, blocked all view of the marina. We would have to go inside to find Paramour. Andre came to a stop under the covered area outside the main entrance and waited for us.
Andy and I both peered through the glass doors into the bright and clean-looking lobby. We could see straight through the glass doors on the other side into the marina, but our field of view was too limited to make out much. Looking around I spotted a white metal gate, propped open on the side of the building.
“Hey, Andre, why don’t you pull up a little and let us out?” I said.
Andre shrugged and pulled the car closer to the gate before stopping again. I tapped Andy on the shoulder and opened my door. He did the same, but just as he was about to step out of the vehicle, Andre grabbed him by the wrist.
“I think you are forgetting something, Mr. Sheets,” he said. “My money?”
“Oh, right. I’ll tell you what,” Andy started pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “I’ll pay you forty now, and you can have the other twenty once we’re back at my boat.”
Andre held on to his wrist for a second and then let go.
“That is fair,” he said.
Andy handed him two twenty-dollar bills and stuffed his wallet back in his pocket.
“I’ll be just over there,” Andre said, pointing towards an empty stretch of road just past the resort.
“Sounds great. We shouldn't be too long,” Andy said before grabbing his bag off the floor and shutting the door.
Andre’s little Sentra groaned as he let off the brakes and then rattled down the road toward the spot he had picked out. I slung my backpack of supplies over my shoulder and headed for the gate. Andy did the same and followed on my heels.
“Let’s see if this bastard is still here,” I said with determination.
We headed through the white gate which was just a pass-through to the backside of the hotel portion of the resort. Once through to the backside, a tangerine painted concrete wall blocked the view of the marina. Several masts stood proudly, visible over the top of the wall, but I couldn’t make out Paramour’s wooden ones. Whether by design or by accident, if they were here, the hitman had chosen a well-hidden place to dock.
“Try one of the gates,” Andy suggested pointing to one of three white metal gates set into the wall.
I walked over and tried the handle. Locked. Shit, now what? I tried peering through the bars of the gate, but it was set flush against this side of the thick concrete wall, limiting my view to just a narrow swath of the docks. A short metal ramp led down to what appeared to be a long floating dock that ran the length of the wall. What few boats I could make out were mostly sport fishing yachts and a couple of newer sailboats. We needed a better view.
“No good, I can’t see much from here, just a couple of sport fishing boats and
a newer sailboat. It looks like the marina goes way back though. Paramour could still be here, I just can’t see her,” I reported to Andy.
“I’ve got an idea,” he said and pointed to the second story veranda of the hotel.
All of the rooms at the Sunrise Resort faced the water. The people on the bottom were met with little more than a manicured lawn and a gaudy concrete wall. The second floor, however, was high enough to provide a perfect view of the marina.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We headed up the wooden exterior stairs to the second floor. Andy was right, from here we could see the entire compound. In the far corner was a pool, and there was a cabana bar or two dotting the grounds. But what surprised me the most was the size of the marina.
Long floating docks ran the length of the resort in an L shape. There was also another long dock that ran out into the protected basin. I was surprised to see that the marina was full. I had expected at most a handful of boats, but instead, there was only a handful of vacant spots for visiting yachts.
“Do you see your boat?” Andy asked peering out over the marina.
“It’s hard to tell with this many boats.”
I unslung the backpack and pulled out Andy’s blue rubber-coated binoculars and started to scan the docks methodically. I went from boat to boat, pausing at each one until I found her. Docked in the back of the marina, farthest from shore, Paramour bobbed in the swell, her small wooden masts swaying with the breeze.
“Got her!” I cried and handed Andy the binoculars.
“Where?” he asked, putting them to his eyes.
“Over there, all the way at the end, farthest spot out,” I said.
“The one with the wooden masts. I see her.”
“Now what? We could hop the gate,” I suggested.
“You said this guy was armed and suspicious right?” he asked.
“Most likely,” I confirmed.
“Well, then I think we should wait, and watch the boat for a while. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll leave.”
