Fallen Palm (Jesse McDermitt Series)

by Wayne Stinnett

  I could almost hear the color change in his cheeks. “Yeah, that has something to do with it. What’s up?”

  I told him the suspicions we had and the update on what we’d learned at Rickenbacker Marina. Then went over the plans Rusty and I had put together.

  “Really?” he asked. “Rusty has an identical necklace? That could work. I’m warning you, though. If we get the guy alone and he confesses, the Police won’t be involved. I’ll use the guy for shark chum, personally.”

  I believed him. “Look I said, we’re up at the house right now. We’ll leave here in a few minutes and should be back at the Anchor by 1400. Want me to pick you up at the airport?”

  “Julie’s already said she’d pick me up. Might not see you until morning though. She said she has plans and it involved room service at the Hyatt on Sugarloaf Key. What time do you want to leave?”

  “I want to be down there by sunrise, so we need to leave the Anchor by no later than 0430. Make sure you get at least a few hours sleep, okay.”

  “Will do, Jesse. See you in the morning.”

  I disconnected and closed the phone, wondering how I was going to explain this to Rusty. When I climbed back up to the deck, Alex was heading through the door with the dishes.

  Rusty said, “We need to get moving, bro. Alex told me that Julie’s gonna pick Deuce up and they’ll meet us in the morning. We gotta top your tanks and get together with Aaron, then turn in early for a 0300 reveille.” So, I thought, Julie told Alex about her and Deuce’s plans and Alex broke it to Rusty. It didn’t seem to bother him too much.

  “Yeah, Deuce told me. You okay with that?”

  “Hey Amigo,” he said, “She’s twenty-four years old. For all of those twenty-four years, she’s been the perfect daughter. Never got stellar grades, but she’s worked hard to get everything she’s got. What kind of dad would I be, if I got pissed that she’s actually become a woman? She reminds me so much of Karen. Poor Deuce never had any more of a chance than I did.”

  Alex came out onto the deck then and said, “Everything’s squared away inside so let’s di di mau out of here.”

  Rusty almost doubled over, he was laughing so hard. Finally, he was able to add, “Yeah, most riki tik, Alex. I think you been hanging around old Jarheads too much.”

  We walked down to the docks, untied the three skiffs and one by one pushed off into the little turning basin, then headed out to Harbor Channel. The tide was still high enough that a nearly straight-line course could be run back to Marathon. We spread out, and accelerated up onto plane as we crossed the channel, with Alex in the center and Rusty to her left. My skiff was probably a little faster than Rusty’s, so I backed off a little until my speed matched his, as did Alex. The water was clear with barely a ripple across its surface. It seemed almost as though we were three fighter planes, zooming across a barren desert, as we headed almost due east toward the narrow cut between Big Spanish and Little Spanish Keys. As we neared the cut, Alex increased speed slightly and took the lead through the narrow, shallow cut, toward Horseshoe Key six miles in the distance. Although it was high tide, the water across the flats here is only ankle deep, except for this cut. Later today, at low tide, the shallows become a sand bar. The cut’s not marked on any charts because it’s less than a foot deep at low tide. Only locals knew that you could go this way. Right now, it was at least two feet deep, but only a few feet wide. Once we cleared the shallowest water, we spread out again into a vee. I called ahead to Alex, “Show us what she’s got!”

  She looked over her right shoulder at me and smiled. Then she pushed her throttle to the stops and that little, red Mirage shot away from us, as though out of a cannon. The big Mercury made hardly a sound. In less than a minute, she was nearly a half mile ahead, skimming across the water, with only the last foot of hull in contact with the surface. She turned sharply and came flying back toward us, passing between us like a blur. The closure speed had to be well above a hundred knots. She made another sharp turn and came roaring back up between us, slowing at the last minute, to match our turtle pace.

  “Mother of God,” Rusty said. “That thing must’ve reached seventy knots!”

  “Sixty-four,” Alex said, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s over seventy miles per hour, which is what Skeeter promised me. That’s gonna come in handy when I take a client out during a tournament.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “if you can find a client with cojones enough to let you do it.”

  23

  Friday morning, October 28, 2005

  It was Lester’s watch again. This, he thought, is really starting to get boring. They’d been cooped up on the boat for over 24 hours now and the only excitement since they got on the boat had been yesterday morning, when the hot blonde had walked down the dock. They were taking turns in six-hour shifts on the bridge. It was already getting hot, and it wasn’t even noon yet. He’d played cards most of the night and lost even more money to Walt. He knew the guy was cheating, he just couldn’t figure out how. Now he wished he’d just gone to bed instead. Not realizing how important sleep was going to be, he was really tired. If they could catch this McDermitt guy there’d be a good chance that he’d have more of the treasure, or could tell them where it was. Better still if they could force him to bring it up. It’d seemed so easy that day when he and the old man had found that gold bar. How hard could it be to find more?

  Benny poked his shiny, black head out of the cabin. “Yo, mon. I got di watch now. Tomas say he know a place wid good jerk fowl. Walt be sleepin’. Weh yuh tink ’bout dat, stead of dem deh greasy burgas we been eatin’?”

  Damn, Lester thought, I can’t hardly understand a word that Bahamian guy says. Fowl? Must be chicken. Way better for the metabolism than burgers. “Yeah, I could go for some chicken. Way better for you than those greasy hamburgers.”

  “Dat wah I and I jest say, mon.”

  “Yeah, whatever. I’ll be in the cabin, watchin’ TV,” Lester said, as he went below. Tomas went out, right behind Benny, with the keys to the rental car. It was a pretty nice boat at least. Too bad the boss didn’t let them cook though. It’d save a ton of money. But then again, who gives a shit? The boss is buying. He and Walt were sharing the rear bedroom, so when Walt got up in six more hours, he’d get a chance to get some sleep. The bedrooms were kinda small, but each one had two beds, at least. He guessed they were okay for boat bedrooms. The bathrooms were really small though. He couldn’t fit his shoulders inside without leaving the door open. He flipped through the channels on the TV, until he found one that was showing an infomercial about diet and exercise, then turned it up to drown out Walt’s snoring.

  After ten minutes of watching, he heard Tomas up on the deck, talking to Benny. A minute later, he came into the cabin where Lester was sitting. He was carrying bags from a place called Caribbean Delight. “Lestah, mon”, Benny said. “I tink yuh guh lacka dis.” He started pulling out square styrofoam boxes and round containers. “Got some goid Caribbean eats, mon. Got mhanish wata, rude bwoy joik fowl, oxtail, curray goit an fi mi own favrit, brahn fish stew.”

  It smelled good, but then Benny opened the one he said was his favorite, whatever he called it, Lester saw a whole fish, looking up at him. “You eat that shit?” Lester asked. “It’s looking at you.”

  “Ya mon,” Benny replied. “Yuh not be knowin dis be goid food.”

  “Lemme try the chicken,” Lester said. No way to fuck up chicken, he thought.

  Benny handed him a styrofoam tray and he opened it. Didn’t look half-bad and smelled good. It was a seasoned, baked chicken breast, white rice, and vegetables. He sat down and dug right in. Suddenly, he bolted for the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and guzzled it.

  “Oh ya, mon, fogot to woin yuh. Joik fowl be hot, mon.”

  “Hot?” Lester said. “That shit’s volcanic.”

  He walked back to the table with a second bottle of water and said, “Maybe if I scrape all that hot stuff off, I can eat it.” he scr
aped the skin and seasonings off the chicken breast and tried another bite. “Yeah, that’s not quite so bad,” he said.

  “Git a boil, mon. Trah some a di mhanish wata. Ah a soip sposed ta mek yuh lass fah a loing tahm, wid di ladies.”

  “An aphrodisiac soup?” Lester asked. “Sure, I’ll try it.” He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and Benny poured some into it. Lester tasted it and it was pretty good. He went back to the vegetables, wolfing them down, and then ate more of the soup, before going back to the chicken and rice.

  “That soups good,” he said. “What’s in it?”

  “Goit meat, goit head an goit haht,” Benny answered.

  “Goat head? Goat heart? You’re shittin’ me right?”

  “No mon, goits are di moist verile ah anmals.”

  Lester ran to the bathroom leaving the door open and puked in the toilet.

  23

  Saturday morning, October 29, 2005

  I woke up at 0300 and again eased out of the bed, so as not to disturb Alex. I’d set the coffee maker for 0250, so the smell of fresh coffee motivated me to get up. I’d wake Alex after I had a cup. When we got back from the stilt house, Julie was already gone. Rusty ran off a couple of local shrimpers, closed up early and had Rufus make an early supper and stock the Revenge with enough provisions for three days. He always counts on the worst. Alex showed me all the special features Skeeter had included in her new boat. It had hydraulic power steering and electric trim tabs. The casting deck also had a platform, that could be raised and lowered by a small electrically operated hydraulic motor. The poling platform was also Kevlar reinforced. The console had all digital gauges, with a built in GPS and marine band radio. It was really nice and I could tell she was proud of it. Rusty drove over to Dockside, gave Aaron his doubloon necklace, and filled him in on what we wanted him to say when Lester stopped by. After Alex and I had eaten, we retired to the Revenge to get plenty of sleep. Well, some sleep anyway.

  I woke at 0300, went into the galley and poured two mugs of coffee. I went back into the forward stateroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Alex opened her eyes and smiled, as she reached for the mug.

  “Mmmm, thanks,” she said, taking a sip.

  “Afraid I’m gonna have to make you walk the plank, wench,” I said.

  “Julie and Deuce get here yet?” she asked.

  I stood and looked through the long narrow porthole above the shelf. “Just pulling in now,” I replied.

  “She and I are going to the Wooden Spoon for breakfast at five o’clock, before we leave. We should get to the Marina by seven.”

  “Make sure you park as close to the boat ramp as you can, okay,” I said. “I want Deuce and Rusty to be able to get in and y’all be gone in minutes.”

  “Don’t worry, Jesse,” she said. “They’re not going to try anything stupid at a public boat ramp in broad daylight.”

  “I know. I just don’t want them to see you. Remember, Lester already saw you once. If he sees you picking up my ‘charter’, he’ll get suspicious.”

  We heard steps on the deck outside and then Deuce’s voice, “Permission to come aboard?”

  “Come aboard, Deuce,” I said.

  “Go,” Alex said. “Let me get dressed.”

  I stepped up to the salon as Deuce and Julie came up the steps from the cockpit. “Good to see you again, Captain,” Deuce said.

  “You too,” I said. “Y’all want coffee?”

  “None for me,” Julie said.

  “I’ll have a cup,” Deuce said.

  I poured a cup and handed it to him as Alex came up the steps from the stateroom. “Have a seat,” I said to Deuce.

  “Come up to the house with me Alex?” Julie asked. “I want to make sure dad’s up.”

  “Sure,” Alex replied. She kissed me on the cheek and headed out the hatch with Julie.

  Deuce sat on the settee and I sat down across from him. He was deep in thought and I could tell he wanted to talk about it. I just sipped my coffee and let him sort it out in his mind.

  Finally, he said, “Do I strike you as crazy, Jesse?”

  “No,” I replied. “You strike me as a pretty level headed man. Besides, BUDS would have found out any crazy side and washed you out.”

  He laughed and said, “You were married, right? Is it fair to a woman to be married to men like us?”

  I knew exactly what he meant. “Look,” I said, “someone way smarter than me once said that it takes a strong woman to be in a relationship with a warrior. Weak women can’t handle it. Dude, Julie is definitely not a weak woman.”

  “Yeah, certainly not. But, is it fair to become involved even with a strong woman? My new job will often entail grabbing a bag in the middle of the night and leaving without a word. I could be gone for weeks or months, without even a phone call. I don’t know, man. That just doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Take it from me, Deuce,” I said. “I was married twice. And there were a few times, I had to do the ‘go bag drag’ in the middle of the night. It pisses them off. Mostly because they weren’t prepared for it. Be straight up, tell her all you can and prepare her for that night. Her dad knows how it goes and he can help. That is, if you two get serious.”

  “It’s serious,” he said. “I’ve known a few women, Jesse. I’m thirty years old. But I’ve never met anyone like her in my life. That girl literally takes my breath away.”

  “Well, like I said, be straight up with her. She’s only twenty-four, but she has an old soul. She’s never been serious with anyone before. Me and Rusty figured she’d know when it was time. If it’s time, she’ll let you know.”

  We heard footsteps on the dock and Rusty’s voice called out, “Reveille, reveille, reveille. On your feet maggot! It’s 0315 and time’s a wastin’. ”

  “Come aboard, Rusty,” I said.

  Rusty stepped through the hatch and said, “The girls are getting things ready up at the house. They said to tell you they’d see us at the docks. We ready to cast off?”

  “Just waiting on Jimmy,” I said. “He should be here any minute.”

  “If you’re waiting on me, dude,” Jimmy said from the dock, “you’re backing up.” He dropped his bag in the cockpit and said, “I’ll get the bow line, Captain.”

  Rusty set a cooler on the deck under the settee and dropped his go bag next to it. Deuce went up on the dock to cast off the stern line, while Rusty and I climbed to the bridge to start the engines. Each engine fired instantly and settled into a low rumble. The Revenge was facing open water and seemed to be anxious to get there. I checked the gauges and everything looked fine.

  “Cast off!” I called down to the dock.

  Both men secured the lines, already coiled, onto the fore and aft cleats. Jimmy shoved the bow away from the dock and then hurried aft, where he and Deuce stepped down into the cockpit. Deuce then started to climb the ladder to the bridge.

  “I’ll double check the engine room, Captain,” Jimmy said and Deuce stopped half way up the ladder.

  “Mind if I have a look, Captain?” Deuce asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “Have at it.” I nudged the port engine into forward and turned the wheel slightly toward the dock. The Revenge moved forward and sideways away from the docks. Once clear, I nudged the starboard engine into forward and brought the helm back to center. As we idled slowly down the canal, Deuce and Jimmy climbed back up to the bridge. Deuce took the seat next to Rusty on the big bench to port. Jimmy took his usual seat to my right.

  “Everything below decks looks good, Jesse,” Jimmy said.

  “Better than good,” Deuce said. “I could eat off that engine room floor.”

  I nodded to my right and said, “Jimmy takes his work very seriously.”

  As we passed the last light pole on shore I switched on the forward spotlight, as well as the navigation and stern lights, and switched the overhead light to red. I nudged the throttles a bit higher as we cleared the end of the canal and started into the channel. Jimmy reached up, swi
tched on the Furuno radar system, and adjusted it to a two-mile radius.

  “Everything looks clear ahead,” Jimmy said. “Checking further out.” He switched the radar to a ten-mile radius and said, “Looks like a big tanker out on the stream to the southwest, heading east, nothing else.” He switched it to a 50 mile radius and said, “A couple of shrimpers further southwest heading toward Key West and several pleasure craft, out at the edge of the reef, to the east about fifteen miles. Nothing else, Jesse.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get out ahead of that tanker.” I slowly pushed the throttles up to 1600 rpm and the bow lifted for a few seconds then we planed out and it came back down. I increased speed to 25 knots, which is where I get the best fuel economy. In just a few minutes, we’d cleared the reef. I turned northeast and punched in a saved destination for Conrad Reef and turned on the Furuno autopilot. It would automatically keep us off the reef, all the way there.

  Jimmy checked the radar again and said, “The pleasure craft to the east seem to be stationary, Jesse. Should be able to see them in ten or twelve minutes. Probably a couple of early morning anglers. Alert’s set for four miles.”

  Since Jimmy didn’t know everything we were going to be doing, I told Deuce, “Jimmy here’s a squid like you, Deuce. But, I’ve found him to be completely reliable in just about any situation.”

  Jimmy said, “Dude, I was a Machinists Mate, First Class. But that was a past life.”

  Deuce understood my subtle indication that Jimmy could be trusted and nodded his assent. I’d already told Jimmy we were going to Conrad, but to keep the rest of the day clear, also.

  Rusty leaned over and looking down in the cockpit said, “Hey, where’d your dog go?”

  “He’s not my dog,” I said. I turned around and didn’t see him below either. I knew the hatch to the salon was closed, so I stood up and looked forward. “I’ll be damned,” I said. The others stood up and looked forward, to where the dog sat on the expansive foredeck, ears cocked and alert, with his nose in the wind. I cupped my hands and yelled, “You okay up there, Pescador?” He turned his head, looked at the four of us and barked once, then turned his head back into the wind. He seemed to be studying the far horizon, even though it was still completely dark.