by Tripp Ellis
The segment cut to footage of Ed Carrero. He looked nervous and frazzled by the array of reporters that had descended upon him. “Though Fernando Gallo contributed to my campaign, I had no knowledge of his alleged illegal activities. There were no agreements between us to allow his operation to continue if I took office. Any speculation to that effect is just that… speculation.”
“You previously called the allegations against Fernando Gallo a smear tactic,” a reporter shouted. “Do you regret that statement?”
“At the time, I thought these allegations were mere rumors spread by my opponent, Wayne Daniels. Evidence has come to light to show that is not the case.”
“Do you feel you owe Daniels an apology?” another reporter asked.
Carrero tried to contain his frustration. “Yes. I apologize for rushing to judgment. There is no denying Sheriff Daniels has done an outstanding job in apprehending the suspect.”
“Will you be withdrawing from the race?”
“No. I have no plans to withdraw.”
The segment cut back to Emma Steele. “We'll have more on this story tonight at 9 PM…”
Harlan sat in his usual spot sipping a beer, watching TV.
"Still thinking about voting for Ed Carrero?" I asked, snidely.
Harlan's face twisted. "Hell no! Whatever gave you that idea?"
I shrugged. "Something you muttered a few days ago."
"I never said anything like that. Wayne Daniels is my man. Always will be."
I chuckled and patted Harlan on the shoulder as I left.
The weather had cleared, and Jack was champing at the bit to get out to Angelfish Key and dig up the gold. He cruised over with brand-new shovels, several empty pelican cases to carry the gold, and a collapsible roller cart with a canvas bin to transport the loot. It had big knobby tires and a push-bar. I helped him unload the gear from the car and onto the Vivere. We cast off the lines and idled out of the marina.
JD took the helm, and we cruised to Angelfish Key and anchored offshore. With the storm out of the area, the weather was perfect. We loaded up the tender with our gear and an ice chest full of beer and snacks.
I leashed Buddy up and put him in the tender. We launched the rigid inflatable from the swim platform, and I twisted the throttle on the Barracuda electric motor. The engine whined.
Jack was giddy with excitement as we motored toward the beach.
We hopped out of the tender in the surf and pulled the inflatable up to the tree line. We unloaded our gear, expanded the cart, put the shovels and the ice chest in the bin, then rolled it across the island.
It was pitch black the last time I was out here, digging in the rain. It looked different in the day. I found the clearing and looked for the spot of my former gravesite. The rain had smoothed the ground, and it looked like this part of the island had been underwater during the storm surge.
I used the trees for reference points and began digging.
My shovel pierced into the dirt, which was still soggy from the rain. This time, the digging was a lot easier with two of us. Wearing work gloves saved my hands.
Buddy was the work foreman, overseeing the entire operation. He sat there and watched us work our asses off.
Within a few hours, we had dug a good sized pit. The mound of dirt beside the hole piled up.
We were several feet down, but this time my shovel blade didn't hit a hard surface.
I kept scooping out shovelfuls of dirt, but I couldn't find the trunk. A flutter of panic washed through me.
I dug even faster.
JD could see the concern on my face. "Are you sure we are digging in the right place?"
I took a deep breath and looked around at the trees. "This is it. I'm sure of it."
"Well, it's not it, because there's nothing here."
My face twisted perplexed. I stared at the dirt, incredulous. "Maybe we’re just off by a few feet."
With a furious pace, we began to dig sideways, expanding the walls of the pit. I had that nervous, sinking feeling in my stomach. The same feeling you get when you’ve left your credit card in a restaurant, or lost your wallet in a cab—only magnified by a million.
Jack and I spent the rest of the day under the hot sun digging around the clearing.
We never found the gold!
By the evening, I was tired and sore. My arms hurt, my back hurt, and the snacks weren't cutting it. My stomach rumbled. I wanted a shower and a hot meal.
Where the hell did the treasure go?
"Maybe the ground shifted?" I suggested.
"Maybe your memory sucks, and we're digging in the wrong place," Jack said.
I shook my head. "That's impossible. This is it. I'm sure of it."
Jack sighed.
"It's gotta be here somewhere.”
“If I didn't see those gold coins myself, I’d think you were full of shit."
"I'm not full of shit,” I assured.
"It didn't just up and vanish," JD said.
"Maybe it did?"
Jack's face twisted.
"Maybe somebody else found it?" I didn't even want to entertain the thought.
"How?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't tell anybody. And the only other people who knew about it are dead."
"Maybe there was somebody else on the island, and they saw you?” Jack said. "You know, kids camp here all the time."
I frowned dismissively. "Doubtful."
"Maybe somebody just stumbled across the area with a metal detector?" JD said.
"We're just digging in the wrong place,” I said.
"I hope so." Jack frowned. "I don't know about you, but I'm done for the day."
I agreed. We climbed out of the pit and rounded up our gear.
"What do we do about these holes?" I asked.
"Leave them. It would be a tragedy if you forgot where we've previously dug, and we end up digging in the same spot again," Jack said, slightly annoyed.
I frowned at him. "Yeah, but it's obvious that we're looking for something."
"Take pictures of the area."
I snapped a few photos for reference, then we filled in the holes, covered them with leaves and debris, and tried to make it look undisturbed. We’d need to return with an advanced deep seeking metal detector. A cheap coin detector wouldn’t cut it.
We loaded up the gear and rolled the cart back to the shore. Once everything was aboard the tender, we crashed against the surf, heading back toward the Vivere. Buddy stood at the bow of the boat, leading the charge.
"Are you sure this is even the right island?" Jack asked.
"Positive. I think I’d know which island I was on."
"You were kidnapped, beaten, starved, then shuttled out here below deck, and forced to dig your own grave in the middle of the night. I don't think you were functioning at your best. Maybe we’re not even on the right island?"
“This is where Brenda found the bodies. I know we’re on the right island.”
Jack’s face crinkled with skepticism.
By the time we got back to Coconut Key, I was ready for a drink.
We staggered into Diver Down, stinking to the high heavens, looking dirty and disheveled. Our appearance drew curious looks from the other patrons.
Harlan muttered, "I guess they’ll let just anybody in this bar?"
"What the hell happened to you guys?" Alejandro asked.
"We were judges in a mud wrestling contest," Jack snarked.
Alejandro rolled his eyes.
"Two whiskeys," I said. "I'll take a cheeseburger and fries."
"Chicken quesadillas," Jack said.
“Coming right up," Alejandro replied.
To my surprise, Madison staggered downstairs and ambled behind the bar.
Everyone grew quiet.
She found the envelope that contained her ultrasound report, revealing the biologic sex of her baby at seven weeks. She stared at it for a long moment.
41
Madison put the enve
lope back in its resting place without looking. Then she stayed behind the bar and acted like she was going to take drink orders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Getting back to work, if that’s okay with you?”
“I think you should take a few more days off,” I said. “No need to rush into anything.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” she said.
The fact that she was being sassy meant that she was feeling better. As far as I was concerned, she could be as sassy as she wanted.
I could tell that Madison was eager to get back to her normal routine and put everything behind her. It took her a little while to adjust to having one arm in a cast, but she was spinning bottles and slinging drinks in no time.
The next morning, my phone rang bright and early. I was lying in bed, still sore from digging the day before. The amber rays of morning sun blasted through the portholes. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and swiped the screen.
"You owe me big time," Isabella said.
"I know,” I said. “Are you just calling to remind me of that?"
"Look on any Hollywood industry website," Isabella said.
I put her on speakerphone, then launched a web browser and tapped in an industry gossip blog. The news was splashed all over the front page with a big headline: Camera Rolling on Acting Guru’s Assaults.
The video clip attached to the article showed Easton Carter making unwanted advances and forcing himself onto students. My eyes scanned the article. LAPD had taken him into custody. He had multiple counts of sexual assault charges against him.
"Say thank you," Isabella said.
"Thank you. How—?"
"It took some doing, but I hacked into Easton's laptop. It seems the pervert had stored all of his conquests on his hard drive. Bad move. He kept the camera rolling during classes. I uploaded a compilation video and sent links to every major publication. The DA is dropping charges against you. Easton's credibility has gone down the tubes. I'm sure some studio will buy the story rights."
A smile tugged at my lips. "You're right. I owe you big time."
"I thought that's what you'd say."
I breathed a huge sigh of relief. A massive weight was lifted from my shoulders.
"Are you ready for your next assignment?" Isabella asked.
"How can I say no after all you've done for me?"
"I was hoping you'd say that. I've arranged a private jet. You’ll be leaving from the Coconut Key FBO. You'll be escorting Frank to Medellín. From there, its a short trip to your final destination. It's simple, really. And I don't expect you to encounter any difficulty. This is just a precaution."
Anytime Isabella said something would be easy, it made me nervous.
She continued, "You'll make sure that Frank, and the briefcase, make the journey without complication."
I couldn't help but ask, "What's in the briefcase?"
"That's need to know. And you don't need to know."
"I had a feeling you would say that.”
Isabella gave me the rest of the details, then hung up.
Over the next few minutes, my phone blew up with calls from my attorney, and my agent. My attorney congratulated me and told me I'd be getting his bill soon.
My agent, Joel, said, "I just knew that justice would prevail. Easton was such a scumbag. It finally took someone of your caliber to put him in his place."
"You didn't seem so optimistic in the thick of it," I muttered.
"This can be a difficult town when you're unpopular," Joel said. "I always believed in you. You know that!”
In a sea of sharks, Joel was one of the good guys.
"It's all water under the bridge," he said. “I have good news. The studio is dropping their lawsuit. They want to move forward with the Bree Taylor Project, and the TV show is back on the table."
"Funny how the worm turns. I want a bonus for mental anguish."
"I'm sure we can work that into the next contract," Joel said. "Listen, I've got to run. I just wanted to call and say congratulations!"
"What about Scarlett?"
"Now that this whole thing has gone away, I'm sure I can get her in front of the right people."
"I know that you will," I said. It was more a demand than a statement.
Joel hung up the phone, and I called Daniels and shared the good news.
“Good. Do you think you can stay out of trouble from now on?”
"Does this mean I am back to active duty?"
"There's no such thing as inactive duty with you," Daniels said.
I laughed.
I ended the call and basked in the relief for a moment, then climbed out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and staggered up to the galley to make breakfast.
I was midway through frying bacon and scrambling eggs when I heard high heels clack across the gangway. Karina stood in the aft deck and knocked on the sliding glass door. She looked stunning as usual, wearing a skimpy little dress. She looked perfectly put together for this hour of the morning.
I ambled across the deck and opened the door.
“Morning," she said with a bright smile. "Permission to come aboard?"
I motioned her inside. “Permission granted.”
Her shapely form strutted into the salon. She filled her lungs with a breath and said, "Smells good."
"Would you like breakfast?"
"I'd love some. If it's no trouble?"
"No trouble at all. How do you like your eggs?"
"Sunny side up!"
Karina took a seat in the dining area, and I moved into the galley. I emptied my scrambled eggs onto a plate, then cracked two eggs into the pan and listened to them sizzle.
"Want a cup of coffee?" I asked.
"I'd love one."
"Cream? Sugar?"
"Yes, please. One scoop."
I brought her a steaming mug, then went back to check on the eggs. When they were ready, I dished them up and served them with a slice of toast and two slices of bacon.
I sat across the table from Karina. "So, what brings you around this way?"
"I just wanted to say thanks again. With Fernando out of the picture, I feel free. I'm going back to Venezuela to get my family."
"That's great!"
"My dad's older and not in great health. He's kinda stubborn, and he doesn't want to leave.”
"You can be pretty persuasive."
“There is just one small problem."
"What's that?" I asked, picking up a slice of bacon.
"Fernando's assets have been frozen. All of his property and possessions have been confiscated. I've been given an eviction notice." She paused. "I don't have any assets of my own. I don't have anywhere to go and no place to house my family when I bring them back here. If I can even get them into the country. Right now, I don't even have money for a plane ticket."
I started to say something, but she stopped me.
"I'm not asking you for money. I don't want you to think that."
"You're not planning on acquiring the funds in ways that I wouldn't approve of, are you?"
Her eyes narrowed at me. "I already told you why I did that."
I raised my hands in surrender. "It was a legitimate question."
"I understand. But I came here with a proposition."
"What kind of proposition?" I asked with a curious gaze.
"If I tell you, you have to promise not to say no."
I laughed. "How can I promise that when I don't know what you're going to ask me?"
"I just don't want this to get confiscated as well."
I had an idea where she was going with this.
"Fernando had reserves," she said.
"Stashes of money?"
"Gold. He'd been skimming off the top for years."
"How much?"
Her eyes widened. "A lot."
"How much is a lot?"
Karina shrugged. "Somewhere in the neighborhood of $50 million."
That got my full attention
. "Where is it?"
"I'm not gonna tell you until you agree to help me get it."
"And why would I help you get it?"
"Because I'm willing to split it with you."
That hung in the air for a long moment.
"And please don't tell me it needs to be turned over to the authorities. What are they going to do with it? Misappropriate the funds? Spend it on something useless? Hell, somebody will probably steal it from the evidence locker."
She looked at me with her seductive eyes for a long moment. She was a hard woman to say no to.
"Say I help you… what then? How are you going to move $50 million worth of gold bullion?"
Karina shrugged innocently. "I'm sure I'll figure something out. I'm very resourceful," she said in a naughty tone.
I took a deep breath. What she was asking me to do was illegal. If we moved the gold into the system, we'd be no better than Fernando Gallo.
"You don't have to make a decision right away. Just food for thought. In the meantime, I hope you'll allow me to make a few persuasive arguments." A sultry glimmer flickered in her eyes.
She peeled the delicate straps of her dress from her shoulders, exposing her bare breasts. She jiggled slightly for added emphasis. “I am single now, you know?”
I swallowed hard.
Her offer was certainly enticing.
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Author’s Note
Thanks for all the great reviews!
I’ve got more adventures for Tyson and JD. Stay tuned.
If you liked this book, let me know with a review on Amazon.
Thanks for reading!
—Tripp
Tyson Wild
Wild Ocean
Wild Justice
Wild Rivera
Wild Tide
Wild Rain
Wild Captive
Wild Killer
Wild Honor
Wild Gold
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Max Mars
The Orion Conspiracy
Blade of Vengeance
