Fallen Honor: A Jesse McDermitt Novel (Caribbean Adventure Series Book 7)

by Wayne Stinnett

  And they said you couldn’t grow food on a mangrove-covered coral rock with an elevation only two feet above sea level.

  Carl was right, it only took two hours to remove and rehang all the hardware at the far end of the dock area. Originally, it was used to lift my skiff out of the water and up into an enclosure that could be covered on the bottom. I’d only used it once, during Hurricane Wilma, and it had worked perfectly. Now it was above the center pier and pretty much useless.

  After moving the hardware to the east side of the dock area, I stood on the center pier and looked up into the recess. “Hey, Carl, you know what’s right above this spot?”

  Carl looked up, then looked around the underside of my house, seeing where the light spilled through from the surrounding deck. “Looks like it’s near the back living room wall.”

  “Right about where my workbench is, between the bedroom and head hatches.”

  Carl looked at me quizzically. “You just did it. Switched straight from island time to tactical mode.”

  I just shrugged. “Old habits, man. If this is where I think it is, maybe I can use it.”

  “Lemme guess. A storage spot for some kinda high-tech weapons?”

  “You misjudge me. I was thinking it could be used for the frame around a ladder well. When Rusty and I first visited here, he said how cool it’d be to come down to where the boat was docked through the floor.”

  Carl looked back up into the heavy oak-framed recess. “It’s way bigger than a stairwell, but yeah, we could use that big oak to build a strong frame. You’re thinking spring-loaded steps and a pop-up trap door?”

  I laughed. “Let’s take some measurements. But no, I was thinking more like a regular ladder, with a rail around it up above.”

  “Okay, maybe you’re not switching gears.”

  By late afternoon, the kids were back from school, playing with Pescador in the lagoon, while Carl and I enjoyed a beer on the deck, relaxing in the rockers after a hard day’s work.

  We’d completely removed the heavy oak planks and cut what we needed from the two smaller ones. Storing the twenty-foot planks for something else, we built an enclosure where I wanted it, using it to reinforce the floor we were going to cut away. I’d get the pipe and fittings later to build a simple ladder, descending from the back living room wall to the center pier.

  A sudden vibration against my leg startled me before I realized it was my cell phone. I’d left it in my pocket all day and was surprised I hadn’t lost it somewhere.

  The number on the display was local, in Key West, but not one I recognized. Feeling relaxed, I answered it anyway. “McDermitt.”

  “Hi, Mister McDermitt,” a woman’s cheery voice said. “We met a year ago. My name’s Dawn. Dawn McKenna.”

  It took a moment for me to remember. “Oh, yeah. Dawn McKenna, Nikki’s friend.” Carl glanced over quickly. “Um, hold on a second, will ya?”

  Without waiting for an answer, I muted the call and looked over at Carl. “You know her?”

  “For quite a few years. Nice lady. Makes a living as a fortuneteller and actually does have a gift for it.”

  I don’t believe much in fortunetellers. Each of us makes our own destiny and can change it over and over. I’d only met the woman once, very briefly. A friend of Doc’s wife, Nikki, she’d said she was a tarot card reader, or palm reader or something. A small and quiet woman, with light brown hair.

  I clicked the mute button again. “I’m sorry, Dawn. You were saying?”

  “That’s right, Nikki’s friend. I asked around to some people down here and your name kept coming up. Nikki mentioned you as well, and gave me your number. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Nikki should have known better, I thought. Privacy had become more and more important to me lately and I didn’t like it being interrupted or intruded upon.

  But I was polite. “My name kept coming up?”

  “Yeah. A friend of my niece is having a problem and asked me if I knew anyone that might be able to help him.”

  “Maybe he should go to the police?” I suggested.

  “Well, it’s kind of a sensitive matter,” Dawn replied.

  “Can you sum it up in a few short sentences?”

  Apparently she couldn’t and began to explain how her niece’s boyfriend had gotten himself involved with a drug dealer from up north and now the guy was in Key West looking for him. I was just about to tell her that people had given her the wrong impression about me and hang up, when she mentioned the drug dealer’s name, GT Bradley.

  Michal wasn’t able to get much sleep. After being ordered to remove his clothes, Coral informed him that she only had one rule in life and that one rule was that she made all the rules and could change them at any time.

  Standing and facing one another, naked, she explained that she never had sex on the first date, but he was welcome to stay the night as long as he remained naked.

  He thought it a weird request, but if it meant he could even see her perfect little body, he’d play along. They got high on her weed and Michal asked if she’d ever tried coke. He loved the way her eyes sparkled when he mentioned it. They’d snorted a couple of lines and smoked some more weed, and then Coral suggested they play a game.

  “I don’t think I can concentrate on a game with you naked,” Michal said.

  “It’s how I live. If you want to hang out, it’s without clothes.”

  Coral went to a closet and brought out a heavy padded blanket and spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace, while Michal rolled two more joints.

  Sitting with her legs tucked under her on the blanket, Coral smiled and patted the spot in front of her. “Sit here, Michal. I think you’re gonna like this game.” Awkward and embarrassed, Michal stood up, unable to hide his obvious excitement.

  Michal’s face was beet red when he sat down. “Where’s the game?”

  She did that thing with her hair and smiled. “We’re the game, Michal. Are you embarrassed, being naked? You shouldn’t be. You have a nice body. Don’t worry, you’ll relax after a while. I’m serious, though, about no sex. Sit on your knees like I am.”

  Michal knelt on the blanket and passed her one of the joints. His hands shook while lighting it for her. He then lit the other one and placed the ashtray on the blanket between them.

  The dim yellow glow from the single lantern lit one side of Coral’s face and body, and Michal reveled in the sight as she took a deep hit, her lungs expanding as she arched her back, lifting her small breasts.

  Not gonna be any relaxing tonight, Michal thought.

  Blowing the smoke toward the ceiling, Coral said, “Okay, here’s the rules. We try to get as close together as possible, but not touch anywhere.”

  Facing each other, they’d taken turns trying to get as much of their body as close as possible to the other without making contact. They both failed miserably, ending up rolling on the floor, tickling and kissing.

  “New rule,” Coral said, rolling over and giggling. “Touching and kissing anywhere is okay, except the groin area.”

  A rule I can live with, Michal thought.

  They lay on their sides facing one another and Coral traced a line down Michal’s arm, while rubbing the outside of his thigh with the inside of hers. Then she reached over him for the ashtray and lighter, pushing him flat on his back.

  Curling up under his arm, her head on his shoulder, Coral placed the ashtray on her flat belly. She relit both joints at once and passed one to Michal.

  “Well, I guess we both lost that game,” Coral said. “But hey, you got a lot further than most guys do. Very few guys like to take orders or follow my rules.”

  After finishing the joints, they tried the game again in the shower, but Coral’s rule of no sex remained in place. She promised that the next time would be different.

  After showering, they spread towels on Coral’s bed and lay facedown, enjoying the tingling feeling of water droplets evaporating into the sultry night air.

  Cora
l pulled a small framed mirror from the nightstand. “You know, there’s not much coke in town right now. I’d been thinking of quitting, anyway. But since you brought it up….” She pushed the little mirror toward Michal.

  Michal went to the living room and fished the vial from his pants pocket. Coral was right, he was starting to relax. Whatever games she wants to play, he thought, I’m in.

  Returning to the bedroom, he found Coral lying on her side in the soft light of the full moon shining through the open window behind her. She had one knee pulled up slightly, accentuating the curve from her narrow waist, up and over her hips and thigh.

  He gently lay down beside her and tapped a small amount of the white powder onto the mirror. Using a playing card that was on it, he separated the coke into two lines.

  “I was thinking of quitting myself. It’s fun, but very expensive. I really prefer weed. It makes me feel invisible.”

  “Invisible?”

  “Well, it did back home, anyway. An average-looking guy, a little on the short side, no tats or scars. You know, invisible in a crowd.”

  She brushed his hair back off his forehead. “But here in Key Weird, you’re not invisible?”

  Michal laughed. “Maybe when a cruise ship ties up and discharges half of New York.”

  He pushed the mirror toward her and Coral rolled over to reach into the nightstand. The sight of her perfect little ass made Michal wince.

  “How much of that do you have left?”

  “Enough,” Michal replied and left it at that.

  “Okay, well, when it’s gone, how about we both quit together?”

  “Together?”

  “Yeah, if you want to hang out for a while. I like you.”

  When she rolled back over, she extended her hand and gave Michal a one-hundred-dollar bill. “You first.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Michal replied, rolling the bill into a small tube.

  “They say that every hundred-dollar bill in Florida has trace elements of coke on it.”

  Michal leaned over the mirror and noticed the painting on it for the first time. It was a nude of Coral, herself. The painting was on the reverse side of the glass and perfectly done. She was lying on her side, pretty much as she was now.

  “Yeah, I’d like to hang out with you. But it might take a while till all this is gone.” He moved the tip of the bill along one of the lines, inhaling through the other end.

  “We can hang out anytime you want, Michal. I like to have fun, but very few men have been so tolerant of my rules.”

  Michal handed her the bill and Coral bent over the mirror, her dreads rolling forward as she did so. In a flash, the second line was gone.

  “To be honest, I really don’t have any direction right now, so having someone to direct me is perfect.”

  “You like my mirror?” she asked.

  “I like it very much. Must have cost a lot to have made.”

  Coral put the bill on the mirror and placed it on the nightstand, then lay flat on her back, shivering and sniffing. “No, it didn’t cost anything. A girl I know painted it.”

  “A girl?”

  Coral scooted her body over toward him. Pulling his arm around her neck and draping it over her shoulder, she placed his palm on her right breast and snuggled even closer.

  “Yeah, a girl. Does that bother you?”

  Michal laughed. “No, not even a little bit.”

  Coral reached out and pulled him toward her, kissing him passionately. While her hand explored his body, he gently massaged her breast. But her hand never strayed beyond his belly, so Michal kept his above the waist as well.

  He returned the kiss, arching his back and pressing himself against her thigh, his excitement once again undeniable. Pushing him away a moment, she said, “You’re making it hard for me to follow my own rules.”

  So Michal went to the living room and got Coral’s stash and rolled another joint, sharing it this time, while slowly caressing one another’s bodies. Rolling back onto the soft fluffy pillows, Michal asked her about her past.

  Coral then told him her story about having been what she called a trophy wife to an older man. A sadistic man, who enjoyed inflicting pain, both physically and mentally. When she’d finally had enough, she contacted her only living relative, an aunt living in Key West.

  Her aunt told her to get her ass down here any way she could and not leave a trail. Coral drugged her husband that night and while he slept, she went online and transferred half the amount held in their joint checking and savings accounts to a new account she’d set up in her name only. Her aunt had given her the number to an offshore account she owned in the Cayman Islands, and Coral then moved all the money from the new account into her aunt’s offshore one.

  Within an hour of doing that, Coral received two emails, one from her aunt and the other from the Cayman bank, thanking her for opening her new account. Her aunt said she’d created the account for her, and then moved all of Coral’s money into it.

  Before her husband woke the next morning, Coral had taken one suitcase with just a few clothes and disappeared. Arriving in Key West, later that evening, her aunt took her to a lawyer friend and Coral changed her name, having the record of it sealed.

  “So, that’s why I make the rules. Anyone who doesn’t want to follow my rules doesn’t have to, but they also don’t get anything else from me. I’ll never go back to that kind of life.”

  The combination of drugs had heightened and dulled Michal’s senses and level of excitement. But with a beautiful, naked woman within arm’s reach the whole night, he was always at a higher-than-usual level. His senses were heightened by the coke, and with the calming effect the weed had, he felt very relaxed, almost harmonic. His earlier assessment of the weed seemed off, or maybe it was Coral herself.

  Without thinking, Michal then told her his own story about growing up in a tough neighborhood, losing his mom at a young age and recently losing his dad. He ended the story by telling her how he stole the pound of coke, and about the long bus ride to Key West.

  He wasn’t sure why, but he just kept talking, telling Coral how he needed to unload the coke in a hurry, but still make enough money on it so he could survive for a while.

  Coral had listened patiently, and when he’d finished and turned to look at her, he was sure she’d kick him out. Instead, she said she had an idea.

  “We’ll go see my aunt. She’s a mystic.”

  “I don’t need a mystic. I need a buyer.”

  “Oh, that part’s easy. Like I said, the island’s dry. I’m sure I know at least a few people who would pay top dollar. That’s some really good toot.”

  “So, why do we need to see a mystic?”

  “Just trust me,” Coral said, rolling into his embrace and smiling seductively in the soft moonlight. “She reads for me every week. Just last weekend, she told me you’d be arriving. Maybe after we see Aunt Dawn, we can go out on that second date. Tomorrow’s my day off.”

  “He’s still here,” GT told Erik after ending another phone call from Stewie. “At a place called the Half Shell Raw Bar, about twenty minutes ago.”

  They’d spent the last hour ducking into one bar after another and hadn’t gone but about three blocks on Duval Street. GT saw more than a few women who looked like hookers. But no sign of the ugly little man. The call from Stewie was their first solid lead in hours.

  “A lot of bars and restaurants here,” Erik said. “I don’t remember seeing one by that name.”

  Grabbing a guy that was walking by, GT said, “Where’s the Half Shell Raw Bar, man?”

  The guy looked like a local. However, just like half the women in this town seemed to look like prostitutes, it was hard to tell.

  “Relax, man,” the guy said. “This is Key West, no need to get all weirded out. The Half Shell is a couple blocks north on Caroline Street.”

  “This way, boss,” Erik said, pointing up Duval to the end where the crowd had been at sunset.

  GT shoved the guy a
way and proceeded up the sidewalk at a quickened pace. They were close and he knew it. A few minutes later, having turned north on Caroline, GT saw the girl in the yellow dress again, crossing the street two blocks ahead.

  A waitress at the restaurant remembered the guy with Grabowski’s card, her memory being jogged with yet another twenty from GT’s pocket.

  “Lousy tipper and uglier than homemade sin.”

  “Know where he went from here?” GT asked the girl.

  “How would I know? I’m not a travel agent. But the chick he was with, I’ve seen her around. A prostitute. They probably went to her place.”

  Erik stole a quick glance at the waitress’s name tag and gave her his most sincere smile. “I bet there’s not much chance a girl like you would know where that might be, is there, Karly?”

  Though they looked enough alike to be brothers, their personalities were polar opposite. Where GT was edgy and hyped nearly all the time, Erik was smooth and mellow.

  Karly couldn’t help but smile back at the big man, “Not exactly, no. Stock Island is the best I can tell you. I know she’s from up island a ways, Key Largo or Islamorada. Started smoking crack a year ago and now she sells her body for the stuff.”

  “Thanks, Karly.”

  “They went out the back door, if that helps. Nothing there but the boat docks.”

  Both men glanced out the long row of windows. Erik looked back at Karly and said, “Yeah, it does.” He slipped ten dollars from his own pocket and handed it to the girl. “To make up for the lousy tipper.”

  “Thanks,” she said, then nervously added, “I get off at midnight if you wanna get a drink or something.”

  Erik smiled. “Yeah, I might be thirsty around midnight.”

  “You didn’t have to give her more money,” GT said when they stepped out the back door and looked up and down the dock area. “She’d already told us what she knew.”