What Lies Beneath: A Florida Action Adventure Novel (Scott Jarvis Private Investigator Book 10)

by Scott Cook

  “Never mind, dude,” Deac said, starting the outboard.

  It wasn’t a four stroke like Rick’s Maverick had. This one was louder and coughed blue smoke as it roared to life. Deac put it in reverse, backed us away from the seawall and dock and then put it in forward, the sound of gears grinding slightly making me smile. These two assholes weren’t watermen, that was for sure.

  “Think you can find your way now it’s dark?” Troy asked as he sat down on the casting deck and eyed us.

  “I got a good track on this plotter deal,” Deac said. “And we got the NVG’s. It ain’t a hard trip. Hang on.”

  “You’re not gonna try and run on a plane are you?” Sharon asked incredulously. “You obviously don’t know much about boats, and there’s a lot of skinny water out here.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ worry about it,” Deac said irritably. “Your only job is to sit there and shut the fuck up.”

  He shoved the throttle forward and the small boat rose up and then leveled off. We raced away from Rick’s dock, headed more or less west toward the now indigo sky.

  “Running lights?” Sharon called back over the roar of the motor and the howling wind.

  “Nope,” Deac said. “Don’t want to be seen.”

  “Hang on, Lis,” Sharon warned after five or ten minutes. “These assholes are likely to find—"

  There was a gentle bump, bump, bump at first, and then the skiff suddenly decelerated and came to a rather abrupt stop. The outboard’s skeg was kicked up, raising the prop and it screamed in protest. Both Sharon and I toppled forward, pretty much tackling Troy, who was himself thrown onto his back. Luckily we must have run up on a slope, because although the grounding happened fast, it wasn’t instantaneous.

  However, it still meant that both Sharon and I were now lying on top of Troy, who thoughtfully cushioned our lunge forward. There was a second of chaos as her hands and mine fumbled around for his gun. I think Sharon got it because she shoved herself off Troy and whirled around, raising the pistol to point at Deac.

  “Drop it!” He shouted, now crouching on the portside of the steering console and aiming his own gun at Sharon. “Now, bitch!”

  He had the drop on her. She couldn’t re-aim before he could pull the trigger. Wisely, she raised her hand and Troy, now sitting up, took it from her.

  “Smart,” Deac said, getting to his feet. “Take your seats. Troy, we hit a sandbar.”

  “No shit,” Troy cranked. “Got any more brilliant news? Like how you just noticed it’s fuckin’ nighttime?”

  “Get out and push,” Deac said. “I just went a little off course. Guess there are lots of shallows out here.”

  “Why I gotta push?” Troy grumbled.

  “Cuz you’re up front, nigga,” Deac thugged. “And it’s a boat rule… anybody that breaks a trolling motor has to push the boat off the ground.”

  Troy scoffed but removed his shoes and jumped over the bow into what was probably six inches of water. He put his shoulder against the rub rail and heaved, grunting with the effort.

  “Damn!” he barked.

  “Come on, man!” Deac grumped.

  Sharon sighed heavily, “Jesus Christ… who fucking sent you two assholes anyway? Come on Lisa, we need to go aft, or we’ll have to set up house out here.”

  We moved into the stern, with Deac holding his gun on us and turning as we went to stand to either side of the outboard.

  “Okay, try again,” he called to Troy.

  There was a groan, a grunt and the boat moved a few inches. More sounds of straining and she began to move slowly, sliding over the sand until it was clear she was floating free. Troy gave us one more push and then scrambled over the bow, dripping and grunting and swearing.

  “Fuckin’ water is cold, baby!” he complained.

  Deac waved us forward again. He used the electric tilt to lower the motor and started it up. This time, he didn’t pour on the speed. He settled the night vision goggles he’d mentioned over his eyes and steered the boat slowly back toward deeper water.

  “Okay I’ve got the track now,” he said. “I’ll keep it kind of slow just in case. Don’t want to risk losing our precious cargo, right?”

  “Damn right,” Troy said. “These two is worth a bundle… plus… maybe we get a bonus, right?”

  Deac laughed sadistically, “Maybe. Wanna flip for which one we get?”

  Troy laughed, “Nah, homey… I say we take turns with both! What do you think bout that, ladies? You ain’t never had it so good as you’re gonna have it. Me and my boy will fuck you cross-eyed!”

  Both men laughed uproariously. I closed my eyes and tried to fight down a wave of nausea. Sharon only scoffed but said nothing.

  Somebody had sent these two idiots to collect us. So that meant, at least for now, that we were safe from molestation. Yet who knew how long that would last. I couldn’t help but chastise myself for not being more vigilant. Both Sharon and I had gotten hyper-focused on our task and weren’t paying enough attention. And didn’t it figure that my freakin’ Doberman and Pitbull were nowhere around to have warned us?

  “Scott is gonna tan my hide for this…” I muttered loud enough so that only Sharon could hear.

  She chuckled, “Let’s hope so.”

  38

  I’d double-checked the Marco Island Marina website once we were within cell range again. The approach was actually very simple. I was grateful for that, since the sun was nearly below the horizon by the time we entered Capri Pass.

  I didn’t like coming into new areas, be they anchorages or marinas, at night. I could do it, and have… yet it was nice when you had plenty of light to see by and correct your mistakes. This one was very simple, though. I simply steered for the center of the Judge Jolley Bridge. After going under the nearly eighty-foot-tall powerlines, I turned right and headed along the shore. I activated my hand held and contacted the marina on channel sixteen. After redirecting me down to twelve, they instructed me to a slip near the outer end of C dock and that I’d see them once I passed the yacht club.

  I found our parking spot and eased in, Wayne and Keisha tying us up with the help of a dock hand. Once secure, I killed the engine and put the protective covers on the electronics. Now all we had to do was plug into shore power and wait for somebody to pick us up.

  “Well, how’d you like your first overnight sail?” I asked Keisha.

  “Loved it… although it was more like a motor,” She replied.

  “Yeah… not enough wind to run only under canvas I’m afraid,” I said. “We’d still be off Venice if we had. Sailor’s woes I guess. I’m not sure what the plan is exactly… but I think we’ll be staying at Rick Eagle Feather’s tonight. Figure by the time we get there, eat, and shoot the shit… it’ll be late. So I recommend bringing your suitcase at least. I’ll get her plugged in while you guys get your gear together.”

  “What about you, Skipper?” Wayne asked.

  “I’m already prepped, swab,” I explained. “Got a go bag prepped and I’m gonna bring my special sea bag, too. Just in case.”

  “Think you’ll need all that firepower?” He asked, a little worry creeping into his voice. Worry for Keisha I knew.

  I shrugged, “Probably not… but the way things have been lately… you know, you guys don’t have to come with me. Or if you want, you can Uber back here and stay aboard.”

  Wayne turned to go below, “Let’s see how it shakes out. I’m all in for one of your crazy adventures, you know that, but…”

  He angled his head down the companionway. I understood, “I get it, man. I don’t blame you. She’s a non-com. Long as we’re in town, either here or even in Chokoloskee, I think she’s perfectly fine. But once we penetrate the Ten G’s… she ought to stay behind.”

  He nodded and went below. While they packed, I roused out and hooked up the thirty-amp shore power cord. With the master dock breaker activated and the AC breakers on down below, I could plug the fridge and freezer back into the regular outlets and sa
ve the batteries… which I could also charge electrically if I wanted to.

  “All set,” Keisha said, holding up a small bag.

  My phone dinged. I looked at the screen, “Juan says he just pulled into the parking lot. Can one of you hand me those two bags on the port settee…? Thanks. Okay, I guess we’re good here. Let’s hit the road, sailors.”

  We went out through the gate and found Juan waiting in his Rogue. After handshakes, dog pets, licks, hugs and a couple of wise-cracks… I know, shocking, right…? We got back on the road to Everglades City.

  “What’re the girls up to?” I asked Juan.

  “Sharon wanted to replace the battery cable in the boat,” Juan explained. “And Lisa stayed to help.”

  “What’s for dinner?” Wayne inquired from his backseat position next to Keisha.

  “You’re always hungry!” she teased.

  I chuckled, “Yeah… me too.”

  “Burgers, salad and fries,” Juan said with a grin. “Hope that’s all right for you sea-going folks. Probably been living off canned beans for the past twenty-four hours.”

  “Ha!” I sneered. “We had steaks, stir fried green beans and a little pasta last night… bacon, eggs and pancakes this morning and Keisha made us a fairly authentic Cajun shrimp boil for lunch. What’d you have for lunch, amigo?”

  Juan blushed, “Taco Bell…”

  Wayne, Keisha and I roared with laughter. Wayne squeezed Juan’s shoulder, “It’s okay, homey. I won’t tell anybody.”

  “Ay! Sharon wanted it!” he protested weakly.

  “And what Sharon wants, she gets, right, hermano?” I asked and made a whip-crack sound.

  “Don’t you boys tease Juan… he’s a sweetie,” Keisha admonished.

  “Yeah…” Juan agreed. He frowned and glanced at his phone.“Hmm… no response. I let them know we were headed back.”

  “Probably busy doing man’s work,” Wayne suggested.

  “Yeah, once Sharon gets focused, it’s hard to distract her,” I commented. “We’ll be there soon anyway.”

  We arrived at rick’s house on the island and all piled out. Morgan and Rocky made a beeline for the backyard. Either they had to pee or were just tired of being in the car for an hour. I hefted the big duffel that I’d packed with artillery and put one of the straps of my go bag over my shoulder and decided to walk around to the back of the house while Juan led Wayne and Keisha in through the front door.

  When I rounded the house, I found the two dogs on the dock sniffing the boards and looking around, almost in confusion. The Maverick was empty. At first I thought nothing of it. I set my bags down on the steps up to the screened deck and walked onto the dock to have a closer look. The boat seemed fine. All hatches were closed, which meant the women had probably finished up and had gone inside. I did see a nearly full bottle of Red Stripe sitting on the dock and there were two more bottles in the boat. One in the bow and one in a drink holder on the center console. That raised an alarm.

  “Scott, are Sharon and Lisa…” Juan asked, coming out through the screened door and nearly tripping over my bags. He stopped at the bottom of the steps. Morgan and Rocky sauntered over for pets.

  “No, they’re not out here…” I said. “And I take it not in the house, either? Shit…”

  I went down into the boat and picked up the two beers. They were nearly empty. I opened up the lower cover in the center console and turned the battery switch. It was too dark to read it, but based on the fact that it was clicked one over from the far-right setting, I thought that one battery was on. I confirmed this by hitting the running and anchor lights.

  They came on, giving me enough illumination to see that the battery switch was indeed on one. I set it to all and closed the cover. At least Sharon had completed the work before… whatever.

  “Anything?” Juan asked.

  I sighed, “No signs of struggle or violence anywhere. Any response to your text yet? Maybe they went for a walk or something…”

  With the illumination from the bright white stern light, I could now see enough of the deck to notice two dark shapes lying beneath the gunwale. I bent down and picked up two 9mm pistols. That was not a good sign.

  Juan met my gaze, frowned, shook his head and called Sharon. From under the big hatch in the casting deck, a cell phone began to ring. He jumped down and opened the hatch. There was Sharon’s phone sitting on a pile of life jackets. Juan cursed and pocketed the Galaxy.

  I pulled out my phone and tried the same trick. Sure enough, from inside the glove box portion of the center console, I heard a familiar ring tone. I opened the cover and there was Lisa’s phone as well.

  “Hey, where’s Sharon and Lisa?” Wayne called from the screened porch. He and Keisha stepped outside and approached us.

  “Gone,” I said tersely. “Without their phones… or guns. Dammit! Somebody must’ve crept up and gotten the drop on them while they were busy… fuck!”

  Juan hung his head, “Madre de dios… I left them here alone… and they didn’t even have the dogs to watch out. Pinche pendejo!”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Juan,” I said. “Besides… all is not lost. Lisa was wearing her special sneakers.”

  “Huh?” Keisha asked as she and Wayne crowded onto the little dock.

  Wayne cocked an eyebrow at me, “You think that thing still works?”

  “Oh… I think it does,” I said, opening my contacts and clicking on Richard Kelly’s number. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any way to track it from my phone… but…”

  “Good evening, Commander Jarvis,” A woman with a soft southern accent answered. “This is Ellen Parker, Mr. Kelly’s associate. I’m afraid he’s off duty for the evening.”

  I was mildly surprised, although I shouldn’t have been. Even a techno-geek, intelligence master like Richard Kelly needed time off. He probably had a wife and kids for all I knew. I suddenly felt a little guilty that I didn’t know.

  “Oh… hello, Ms. Parker…” I began lamely. “uhm… well that makes sense. Is it possible you can assist me with something?”

  She chuckled pleasantly, “Of course, Commander… that’s my job. What can I do for you?”

  I explained about the tracking device in Lisa’s right sneaker and how we’d used it last summer to track Shade. She listened intently before telling me that she knew all about it.

  “Give me just a second here…” she said, and I heard the sound of computer keys being tapped rapidly. “Those trackers don’t last forever… part of the sacrifice of their size is a limited lifespan… however, one built-in feature that may be of some use is that we can send a signal via satellite to them to activate and deactivate the unit. It helps stretch out their operational life, as you might expect… now let’s see… ah, here it is. Let me send a test signal and see if I get a response… even if the battery is nearly dead, that may enable enough to at least get you a set of coords…”

  “Thank you, Ms. Parker,” I said.

  “Please call me Ellen, sir… okay, signal bounce reports battery is at less than five percent life… oh, dear…”

  “Dammit…” I muttered. “Fuck me… excuse me, Ellen…”

  She chuckled again, “No worries…. So no, we can’t track the unit, unfortunately. However… as I said, I can get you a current position. I know it’s not ideal… but…”

  “That’d be great, Ellen,” I said. “It’s something to start with, anyway. Can you send me that as a text, please?”

  “Certainly… here it comes… and commander… good luck.”

  I thanked her again and looked at the text. I wasn’t exactly sure but from the numbers, I thought the location was only a dozen miles or so away.

  “What?” Juan asked impatiently.

  “I’ve got a set of GPS coordinates on Lisa,” I explained. “As of right now. I don’t know if she’s moving or what… but it’s something.”

  “So what do we do about it?” Wayne asked.

  I activated the chart plotter on th
e Maverick’s console, “I’m gonna plug in the numbers and see where that location is. Then I can see if maybe there’s a way to get to it quickly… hmm… yeah, the plotter says she’s eleven point four miles to the southeast… roughly… that’s in the Ten G’s. I wonder…”

  “What?” Juan asked again, obviously anxious.

  “Rick Eagle Feather is supposed to have a private fishing cabin out there,” I said, loosely pointing over my right shoulder. “What if somebody took the girls there?”

  “How would anybody know about it?” Wayne asked.

  I tilted the outboard down into the water and turned the key. It rumbled to life and then settled down into a nice quiet burble, as all good four-stroke outboards did, “My theory is that George Nolen is behind or a big part of this. I’ll bet he’d know where Rick’s cabin is. They were like brothers all their lives.”

  “Are you saying…?” Keisha asked incredulously. “That Sharon’s dead father, who isn’t really dead… kidnapped her and brought her to her uncle’s fishing cabin? Why?”

  “My guess is to draw Rick out,” I said. “Probably me, too. He wants the treasure and Rick Eagle Feather is the only one who knows how to find it… or was.”

  “So you’re going after them… in the dark,” Wayne said it without even a hint of question in his voice.

  “Of course I am,” I said. “I’ve got a location, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t moving. I’ve got to try.”

  “Then we’re coming,” Juan said.

  I held up a hand, “Hold on there… we’re not gonna load four adults and two dogs into this boat and then put two more people in it if we’re lucky… no, I can take one of you. The other two will stay here and keep watch on the house and each other. Plus you’ll have the dogs. I’d take one for this, but I’m not sure they’d be quiet enough. Juan, why don’t you come, since it’s your girlfriend out there. Keisha, can you shoot?”

  “I’ve shot before,” She replied. “My dad and I used to shoot all the time.”

  “Good to know,” I said. “Please bring me the big duffel bag. Here, Wayne…”