by Scott Cook
“Wow,” I said with a head shake. “Just wow.”
“I see you’re recovering,” Juan said wryly.
Sharon laughed and squeezed us both, “I love you guys. It’s just too bad your boyfriend couldn’t be around to comfort me once in a while, Lisa.”
“I know right? Typical man.”
“Typical white man,” Juan corrected. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Exactly!” Sharon said with a laugh. “Got me an attentive Latin lover who knows how to treat a woman… sorry Lis.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you suck?” I asked her.
“Yeah… Juan… like four or five times a week.”
“Jesus Christ…” I groaned and then laughed. “Yeah, she’s fine.”
One of the strange things, especially in this day and age, about taking a boat offshore is how quickly you lose contact with it. Unless you had a satellite phone, sailing fifteen or twenty miles away from land was like going back in time a hundred years.
Scott probably had his satellite phone on board, of course. Yet there was no reason to bother them. I’m sure that he and Wayne and Keisha were having a great evening at sea… y’know… while I babysat two dogs.
So I went to bed alone… Scott… and woke up alone… Scott… lol
Around two o’clock on Wednesday, I got a call from Scott on a regular phone. He said they were just in range of cell service but were still an hour and a half from the marina.
“You guys okay?” I asked as I hustled Morgan and Rocky into my SUV.
“All good. Wayne and I just completed a dive on the Lady Lucy. I have to plug the numbers in or plot them on a local chart, but I think I know where to find the Meraux treasure. I also think that means I know where Rick might be.”
“You think he’s free?”
“Yeah, based on what Donniker said the other night. Rick probably escaped and went to wherever this treasure is. My guess is he’s got emergency supplies there or a way to sustain himself until I find him. I’ve got a bunch of theories about this… but we’ll talk about it later. I’m also formulating another plan.”
I got in and started the car up. If he was in cell range, then it was time to head south, “What plan?”
He sighed, “Well… if I’m right and Rick is free, then Nolen wants to find him. We also need to figure out which of the politicians is behind all of this. I’ve got an idea on that. It’s just a hunch… but I want to try something. Call Marsha Davies and tell her that we think we know where Rick is. Tell her he’s hiding out at his fishing cabin in the Ten G’s. I’ll call Thorne and say the same thing.”
“Why? Do you think either one knows where that is?”
He chuckled, “I have no idea… but once Sharon gets the Maverick running, we can scope it. If somebody shows up… anybody… it might lead us to whichever of the politicians is really gunning for Rick.”
“Suppose it’s neither and they really are on the level?”
“Then no harm done… but I don’t know, kid… something stinks in all of this. George Nolen may be working on his own… or independently… but something tells me he’s got a friend. Just make the call and let’s see what happens. How’d it go with Sharon?”
I scoffed, “She was furious… but she seemed to come to grips with it fast. She’s hell bent on finding Rick and confronting George, though. She and Juan will be headed down, too. I’ll text them. She thinks we should stay at Rick’s house on Chokoloskee.”
“Hmm… maybe. I’m going to put in at the Marco Island Marina tonight… not sure I can get the boat to Chokoloskee. Maybe I can anchor in Chokoloskee Bay, but I doubt the water by the island is deep enough. As it is, when we go exploring the Ten G’s, I can only get her in so far. Then we’ll need a smaller boat. I’ve got the dink, but still…”
“Sharon says she’s gonna hit West Marine and get a new battery cable,” I explained as I pulled out of Chickasaw Oaks and turned south. “So we should have Rick’s Maverick.”
“Okay, cool. That’ll work well. I think we should be at the Marina before dark. I’ll text you when I get there and maybe you can come pick us up. Or we can Uber over to you guys.”
“We’ll come and scoop ya’,” I said with a grin. “I can’t wait to hear about your trip and the dive… and to taste your lips, baby.”
“Ahh… you’re so cute… and I agree. What about the lads?”
“I’m sure they’ll be licking your lips too!” I chuckled. “I’m bringing them with. Figured they can hang at Rick’s or something.”
“Good thinking. Both Morgan and Rocky have expressed their displeasure at being left out of this investigation so much.”
“Have they.”
“Of course.”
“Baby… you know dogs can’t talk, right?”
“Pfft! That’s just a rumor.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You love me.”
“Guess I’m crazy too, then.”
“Oh, God yeah!”
37
Gently coaxed from the X-chromosome files
Lisa’s Journal Entry 11, Part Dos
It took me most of the drive south on I-75 to connect with Congresswoman Davies. She was in meetings or something and had to get back to me. When she finally returned my call, I was nearly to Naples. I explained what had been going on, somewhat vaguely. I said that Scott and I believe we’d located Rick Eagle Feather and also had a lead on something else. Something that might be useful to her cause.
I’d thought of that after Scott and I talked and texted the idea to him. He said it was a great one and that he’d use it to. Marsha was quite excited and asked when we’d be going out to find Rick. I said I thought it’d be in the morning, as it was getting late and we probably couldn’t get out into the Ten Thousand Islands much before dark and it’d be tough navigating at night.
I got to Everglades City and stopped at the Right Choice grocery store. An independent supermarket that had plenty of stuff for dinner and also plenty of grass and stuff for the boys to take a potty break. I really was starting to like this part of the state. It was sort of cool, like going back in time to when things were less frantic and homier.
I drove across the causeway to Chokoloskee and parked in Rick’s driveway. Sharon and Juan hadn’t arrived yet. Probably the stop at the marine supply store had slowed them down. That and they might’ve hit traffic someplace.
I let the lads out and we did a quick circle around the property. No signs of bad guys. No sign of lurking bloodthirsty aliens or zombies or any other damned thing waiting to waylay us… for a change. The Maverick was still tied up at the dock and seemed no worse for wear. We’d only been gone a few days, but without battery power, the bilge pump wasn’t working and if it had rained or leaked, that could be a problem. I went aboard and checked it out a bit and everything seemed okay.
I heard a vehicle pull up out front and both boys proceeded me. I jogged back to the front of the house with my Glock 43 in hand. But it was only Juan’s red Nissan Rogue. It parked behind me and they got out, Juan going into the cargo area to grab a bag and Sharon with a battery cable and small toolbox in hand. After saying hi to the dogs, she unlocked the front door and then headed for the dock.
“Look at you,” I teased as I followed her out. “Toolbox and everything. I never knew you were such a hand at boating.”
“Inshore stuff mostly,” She replied. “The whole sailing and offshore thing is a bit new to me. Want to give me a hand?”
I clapped.
“Har… har,” She stuck her tongue out and we climbed aboard. “When’s Scott supposed to dock?”
“He said he’d let me know when they were close… I told him one of us would go pick them up and bring them back here,” I explained. “I stopped at the Right Choice and grabbed stuff for salad, burgers and buns and a bag of frozen fries. Figured keep it simple tonight.”
“Cool. We can plan our next move once the whole gang is here.”
Juan came out
onto the deck and down to the dock with Morgan and Rocky in tow. He held a trio of Red Stripes in his hands and wore a smile on his handsome face.
“Your Uncle Rick had a couple of twelve packs of these in the fridge,” Juan said. “I put the groceries away and our bag on the couch. Think he’ll mind us having a few of these?”
“Nah,” Sharon replied, accepting a beer as did I. We all clinked and took a long pull. “His casa is my casa.”
“Need a hand?” Juan asked as Sharon opened the big hatch in the foredeck to get at the battery compartment.
“No, Lisa can handle it… since we parked behind her, can you drive over to Marco and pick up Scott, Wayne and Keisha?”
“Sure,” Juan said. “Should I leave now?”
I pulled out my phone and snapped off a quick text. The sun was low over the bay, probably less than an hour to full dark. Based on what he’d said, they should be just about there.
My phone dinged and Scott said he was just outside Capri Pass. I turned to Juan, “he’s about thirty minutes from the dock, maybe? So yeah, why don’t’ you head over. You okay with that? I can go instead.”
He waved that off and set his beer on the dock, “It’s cool. I’ll take the boys for another ride, that way you two don’t have to worry about them wandering off while you work.”
“Thanks, babe,” Sharon said, stepping to the gunwale and tilting her face up to be kissed. “You’re the best.”
“That’s what I keep telling you, mija,” Juan replied and headed back for the house. Morgan and Rocky were sitting at the foot of the dock and watching us. As Juan moved past, both boys looked at me and cocked their heads, as if asking permission to go.
“Go on with Juan, boys,” I said with a laugh.
They thumped their tails and then turned and followed Juan up the steps to the deck and into the house.
“So what’s involved in this job?” I asked Sharon after stepping down into the Maverick.
“It’s not that hard,” She said, going back to the open hatch. “The battery cable is actually two cables bundled together. Each of the sub-cables hooks up to the positive contact on each battery. Then at the other end, it’s hooked to the battery switch under the helm. That way, you can use one or the other or both batteries. But being bundled, it makes it easier to fish the cable back from here. Whoever did this knew that and cut the cable where it’s bundled and severed both connections. So all I have to do is unhook the old cable and attach the new. The distance to the switch is only like six feet, but it’s under the deck.”
“That sounds like a bitch,” I observed.
“Kind of… but a little string will do the trick. So what I need you to do, if you think you can handle it, is to detach the old cables from the battery switch. Don’t pull them out, though. I’ll duct tape a length of twine to the cut end from here and then to the switch end of the new cable and then you’ll pull while I feed. Got all that, sweet cheeks?”
“You’re not the boss of me,” I quipped.
“Yeah I am, now get to work, swabby.”
“Anybody ever tell you that you’re a mean girl?” I asked, sliding open the panel and immediately becoming bewildered.
“Only other broads who are jealous of my charm and beauty,” Sharon replied. “The men look past it cuz’ they want to put their shweens in.”
“Jesus…”
Sharon giggled, “Confused yet? You’re gonna have to unscrew the facing and pull it out a smidge in order to reach the back of the switch. Ever use a screwdriver before, Miss Priss?”
“How bout if I use it on you, bitch?”
Sharon laughed again, “That’s the spirit! It’s not fun working on mechanical or electrical stuff without busting balls. It should be simple, though. Once you get the switch free, it’s just a couple of nuts you’ll have to loosen.”
“Maybe that should be your job,” I said as I started removing screws. “If anybody knows about loosening nuts…”
“Bet your ass,” Sharon’s muffled voice floated back to me. She must be partially inside the battery compartment.
It didn’t take long to remove the six stainless screws. However, it was a bit trickier to wiggle the switch free enough to angle it down and give me access to the back. When I sat up to stretch my back and take a few sips of my Red Stripe, I noticed that the sun had set and darkness was encroaching. I said as much to Sharon.
“Yeah… but honestly, once you get the cables detached, it shouldn’t be too hard to feed the new one through,” She replied. “Even if it gets dark on us, it’s really a tactile job. How’s it coming?”
I was having some trouble getting the small wrench into the limited space and loosening the nuts that Sharon had come back and pointed out to me. However, once I got them turned a little more than once, I could spin them with my fingers. In a few minutes, I had the old cable free.
“Awesome,” Sharon said. “I’ve already got it prepped. The nice thing is that the old one is cut, so we don’t have to try and get the battery contacts through that tight hole. Start pulling, but gently now. Not the way you usually try to yank stuff into a hole.”
“I love how dainty you are,” I said as I began to pull the bundled cable. It was a bit tight, but it was moving.
“Ooh, yeah…” Sharon moaned. “Just like that… yeah, baby… hehehe. Wait a sec… okay, keep going… can you see the tape yet?”
“Yeah, it’s almost out… here comes the string… how long is it?”
“Size doesn’t matter,” She quipped.
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”
She laughed, “Couple of inches. I taped it behind the contacts, obviously.”
“I’ve got it!” I announced, seizing hold of the metal thingies. “How much slack can I have?”
“About a foot,” She replied. “Get the tape off and then seat them on the bolts and put the nuts back on. Is the switch set to off by the way?”
“No… okay it is now.”
I attached the leads, tightened them down and then sat back, “Oof! Okay, all done.”
“Nice, set it to one and then try the running lights, let’s see if…” Her voice trailed off.
I thought nothing of it at that moment. I set the switch to battery one and then reached up to the bank of switches right about eye level and turned on the running lights. A soft white glow appeared on the white fiberglass of the console.
“Hey!” I shouted, hauling myself to my feet. “We got it Sharon…”
Sharon stood just in front of the console looking to the west. Not six feet away, silhouetted against the twilight behind them were two men in a small boat. Although little more than shadows, I could clearly see that they held pistols aimed at us.
“Shut off them lights,” one of the men said. His voice was familiar. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that one of the men was a bald white guy and the other a black guy. Then I remembered.
“Deac and Troy,” I said flatly.
“Hey, she knows us, ain’t that nice, Troy?” The meth-head gangster asked his partner. “Now cut off them lights, bitch! I ain’t gonna say it again.”
I flicked the switch and the white stern light and the red and green bow lights went dark.
“The fuck you two assholes want,” Sharon demanded.
“We lonely, baby,” Troy said with a wide grin. “It’s such a nice night, we figured we’d take you on a little cruise.”
The men had managed to bring their boat right up alongside ours without either Sharon or I having noticed. The boat was about the same size, a wide and shallow skiff with handrails along either gunwale. The big outboard in the stern wasn’t running, but a small electric motor in the bow had a small red indicator light on it. An electric trolling motor and probably very quiet.
“Why don’t you two fuck off before you get hurt,” I blustered.
They laughed, and Deac said: “Yeah, why don’t we? If you got any guns on you, drop them on the floor. Nice and slow.”
“Do it, Li
s,” Sharon growled and I heard her pistol clatter to the fiberglass. I seethed but pulled mine from the waistband of my jeans and let it fall to the deck, too. I glared at the men, “It’s called a deck on a boat, you fuckin’ idiots.”
“Well, scuse me, your fuckin’ highness,” Deac sneered. “Guess we got a lot to learn, huh Troy? Wonder what else these two lovely twats can teach us?”
“Teach me how they suck this dick!” Troy enthused, thrusting his hips back and forth vulgarly.
Deac snorted, “Yeah, after you teach em’ how to find it.”
“Nigga please…” Troy drawled.
“Let’s go,” Deac ordered. “We ain’t got all night. Got an appointment to keep.”
“You know I’m a cop, right?” Sharon asked, still not moving. “You really want to fuck with me?”
Deac only laughed, “Shit, baby… that don’t worry us. A cop… yeah, that’s pretty scary, ain’t it, Troy?”
“Shakin’ in my kicks, nigga,” Troy rejoined wittily. “Now come on!”
Sharon climbed into the bow and I went around the starboard side of the console and followed her. Troy stood in the bow and waved his gun at the bench seat on the forward side of the small center console. “Have a seat. Make your fine selfs right at home.”
Sharon and I sat on the small bench. It was barely wide enough for two women. Troy took hold of the trolling motor’s handle and twisted it. The boat moved forward and bumped hard into the seawall ahead of us. The skiff’s bow was squarish and there was a rather satisfying crunching sound as the fiberglass rubbed against the concrete and the oysters that were probably piled up just under the water.
“Nice fuckin’ job, asshole,” Deac chastised. “Wanna put it in reverse this time, numb nuts?”
“I got it, dawg… I got it,” Troy grumbled, fumbling with the little motor. “Shit… it ain’t doin’ nothin’…”
“For fuck’s sake…” Sharon groaned. “You probably just smashed up the prop, shit for brains.”
“Bitch, you best shut that cock-gobbler!” Troy menaced, waving his gun at us.
