Suffer Not Evil: A Florida Action Adventure Novel

by Scott Cook

  Not being tidal, the dock was built only a foot or so above the water. This was the perfect height to access the large pontoon boat that lived along the side of the dock. It also made fishing and retrieving the occasional bass or trout a cinch.

  Marcus stood and stepped up to the edge of the dock, peering out over the now black waters. The evening was pleasantly warm, with a light breeze blowing across the open farmland. Crickets chirped and whip-poor-wills sang their nighttime song to him. He smiled to himself. All this was his now, as was his brother’s company. What was Julius’ had always been his, one way or another. Now it was final, and that suited Marcus just fine.

  He paused in his musings. Something had alerted his senses, although he couldn’t identify what. He neither saw nor heard anything… yet something had gotten his attention. Something under the dock? A branch bumping a piling, maybe?

  He leaned forward and looked down…

  Natalie had just emerged from the back of the house with two glasses in her hands. As she gingerly stepped down off the porch, she heard a tremendous splash and… a shout?

  “Mark!” she called out.

  No reply.

  A bolt of fear seized her, and she began to run, the two cocktails falling unheeded to the grass. The gazebo was at least a hundred yards from the house, and by the time she pounded down the dock and to the spot where her husband had been sitting, there was no sign of him. No Marcus… no nothing.

  No… that wasn’t exactly true. There was a wet spot on the edge of the dock. He must have fallen in… or… or…

  She began to scream.

  While it was true that Marcus Bradford had been seized by a large predator, it was not true that the predator was a hungry reptile. Neither had the man been dragged under and drowned.

  At the moment, only a dozen yards or so from where Natalie stood, Marcus' hands had been zip-tied behind his back and a regulator shoved roughly into his mouth. He was being held underwater by his captor and dragged along the shoreline downriver, breathing heavily in panic and confusion.

  When his mind finally grasped that he was not in the deadly jaws of a huge gator and that he was not drowning, Marcus began to struggle against his bonds and his captor. This earned him a hard knee to the gut, and he ceased his struggles. He was, after all, breathing.

  After what seemed like a very long time, Marcus was pushed to the surface along the shore near where a low-sided boat was anchored. He found that he could stand and that the water was only up to his stomach.

  “Move,” a man’s voice said into his right ear. “Make a sound and I’ll slit your throat, Bradford.”

  Marcus’ captor, a big man five inches taller and forty pounds heavier, pushed him up the bank toward the stern of the fishing boat. He clambered in, happy to do so, and the other man climbed in behind him. Marcus was then ushered forward and forced to sit on the small bench in front of the helm console. His ankles were zip-tied. The other man, dressed all in black, started the big, quiet outboard and pulled the anchor.

  “Who are you?” Bradford asked as the boat began to move slowly out into the channel.

  “You mean am I an assassin, Colonel Kurtz?” the man asked. “Or am I an errand boy… sent by grocery clerks to collect a bill?”

  “What?”

  “I’m the last angry man, Bradford,” the man explained. “The final juror, you might say. There’s a reckoning that you and your clan owe, and I’m the man who’s going to collect the fee.”

  Bradford half-turned and stared back at the man. With the boat’s running lights on, his face was illuminated just enough for Marcus to identify him.

  “Jarvis!” he exclaimed.

  The man in black smiled broadly, his white teeth gleaming shark-like in the low light, “Got it in one, Marcus.”

  27

  Lisa’s journal entry 4

  “So exactly what are we doing here, boss?” Jackie asked me from the passenger seat of my GLC.

  “We’re staking the Big B Ranch out,” I explained. “Duh.”

  After being yelled at, Jackie and I had driven into town and grabbed a couple of bags full of delicious fast-food items. We then drove back to the ranch and past the gate, to where the road ended not far from the edge of the river. It was nearly dark now, and we sat with the windows open, listening and taking turns watching Marcus and his wife sitting at the end of their dock. They were two hundred yards away, but with the night vision monocular and its magnifying power, we could clearly see them.

  Jackie dipped a not-so-warm chicken McNugget into honey mustard and popped it into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed and then looked at me, “This isn’t the evening I thought you’d show me.”

  “Pfft! What did you expect? Wine, lobster and flowers? I’m not trying to get you in the sack, Jackie.”

  “Good thing,” she said, eating a handful of fries. “Probably gonna get a zit now.”

  I took a delicate bite of a tuna salad sub and shrugged, “Nobody told you to get Mickey-D’s. Shoulda got a nice sub like me.”

  “I didn’t want a nice sub.”

  “You do a lot of complaining for a Marine.”

  “Meh.”

  We chuckled and ate in silence for a minute or two.

  “So what do you think is gonna happen here?” Jackie asked.

  “I don’t know, really…” I explained. “A lot of private detectiving is sitting around and watching people. Waiting for something to happen.”

  “Detectiving?”

  “Industry term,” I said. “All I know is that these Bradfords are up to no good and sooner or later, especially with Veronica’s death, her murderers being caught and Doctor Campbell going missing… something has to happen… like soon.”

  We watched as a lone man in a low fishing skiff drifted past on the far side of the river. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I couldn’t look away. I should’ve been watching the couple on the dock since it was nearly dark, and I was wearing the night vision.

  “What’re you looking at out there?” Jackie asked.

  “Here,” I said, pulling off the monocular and handing it to her. “Don’t know… a guy fishing across the way.”

  “So?” she asked, adjusting the device over her left eye.

  “Don’t know… just a weird feeling…” I muttered, looking at the silhouette as it floated past and downriver.

  “Scott’s boat is tied up to the big boat again,” Jackie commented. “Up in Saint Pete. And his jeep is still up there, too.”

  I sighed, “Yeah, I know…”

  “It’s just a guy fishing,” Jackie said and then frowned. “Or…”

  I looked over at her.

  “I keep forgetting who we’re talking about here,” Jackie admitted. “Getting from there to here isn’t really a challenge for him… but still, it’s probably nothing.”

  I blew out my breath, “Yeah… you’re probably right. Wishful thinking, I guess. I hate this, Jackie… I wish I knew where he was…”

  She reached out and squeezed my hand, “He’ll be all right.”

  “Yeah, I know…”

  “It’s oh-kay, Lisa,” Jackie said with a wry smile. “Everything’s going to be… oh-kay.”

  We giggled and continued to watch. Jackie still had the monocular on and was giving me a play-by-play now that it was full dark.

  “Hmmm… they’re still sitting out there… oh, no… the wife is getting up. Must be time for a refill on the drinks.”

  “Wish we had some drinks…” I muttered. Then half to myself. “thought he was an alky…”

  “Okay… now she’s walking… and she’s walking… and she’s going up the back steps…”

  “Riveting.”

  Jackie chuckled, “The husband is on his feet now, standing by the edge of the—“

  Even from two football fields away, we heard the short yell of surprise that was ominously cut off by a big splash. Jackie sat bolt upright in her seat.

  “Holy shit-nuggets! Something… I guess
something… just pulled Bradford into the river!” Jackie cried, pointing.

  “Fuck me…” I cranked, grabbing my gun and opening the door. “Let’s move, Tonto!”

  Jackie was right behind me, Sig in hand. We vaulted the split-log fence and were running across the large lawn when Natalie ran down the path and onto the dock. She stopped at the end and began to scream bloody murder. We were only a few seconds behind her and raced down the planks and approached her on either side. She spun on us, still shrieking like a maniac.

  “Natalie, calm down!” I shouted into her face.

  The woman only kept screaming and gesticulating at the water.

  Jackie stepped up and backhanded her a good one across the cheek. That seemed to return what was left of the woman’s wits to her and she stared at us with wide, terrified eyes.

  “Something got Marcus!” Natalie exclaimed. “A gator!”

  “What?” Jackie said, scanning the water with her monocular. “I don’t see anything…”

  From the west, probably not much further than I was parked, I heard the soft yet distinct rumble of a boat motor being turned on. It was a quiet motor, but with the westerly breeze and the flat ground and the river, the sound drifted to us. I tapped Jackie on the shoulder and pointed.

  While Jackie looked, I took Natalie by the shoulders, “Calm down! Just take a breath and we’ll figure this out.”

  Jackie began to chuckle and then laughed out loud, “God-damn, Lis! I guess your instincts are good.”

  “What are you laughing about!” Natalie cranked. “My husband is—“

  “He’s fine, lady,” Jackie said. “Two hundred, two hundred and fifty yards downstream. A low fishing skiff with two men aboard. And I’ll bet one is your husband and the other is Scott Motherfuckin’ Jarvis.”

  “Will you bet dollars to navy beans?” I asked, a laugh bubbling up inside me, too.

  “You bet your cute little log launcher,” Jackie said. “Now, at the risk of sounding like a broken record… now what, boss?”

  “Now we go visit Clay,” I said, grinning.

  “What the hell is going on?” Natalie said, calmer now that she knew her husband wasn’t being tenderized under a log someplace. “We need to call the Sheriff.”

  “Nope,” I said. “That’s the last thing we need to do. Or that you’ll want, I’ll bet. We’re going for a ride, and you’re coming with us.”

  “I am not!” Natalie protested.

  “I’m not asking you to, sweetie,” I said, and Jackie snickered.

  “What… what are you kidnapping me?” Natalie asked, indignant now.

  I shrugged, “Yeah.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “Why not… it’s not a crime or anything,” I said, thinking of Scott.

  “Uhm… it kind of is,” Jackie stated.

  “Oh… well that sucks,” I said, taking Natalie’s arm. “But then again, so is murder and conspiracy to commit murder. Let’s move it along, hot tub.”

  “I’m beginning to think you might be losing your mind,” Jackie commented as we walked to my car.

  “Meh.”

  “I’ll see you both in prison for this!” Natalie griped.

  “I’m afraid we haven’t represented this situation as accurately as we might have,” Jackie said more seriously and cleared her throat. “Natalie Bradford, by the authority of the International Counter-criminal Enforcement Agency, I’m placing you under arrest for the crime of conspiracy to commit murder. How’s that grab ya’?”

  The Delaneys were staying at the KOA in Naples, which wasn’t far from Marco Island. It was a well-appointed campground with access to the inland waters of Chokoloskee Bay and not far from the beaches. It was nearly ten when we arrived, and I was surprised to find Clay, Missy and Shelby sitting by the fire.

  “Come to join the party?” Missy asked as Jackie and I got out.

  “Sort of…” I said, casting an eye around the big site. “Where is the rest of the clan?”

  Shelby, their oldest daughter who had recently turned fifteen, said: “Dec and Aubrey are crashed out. The dogs are sleeping with them.”

  I laughed and introduced Jackie and then pointed to the SUV, “And that’s Natalie Bradford.”

  “We kidnapped her,” Jackie explained, shaking hands. “And by we, I mean Lisa.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Is that how you Marines operate? Tossing your buddies under the bus?”

  Jackie shrugged.

  “What’s going on?” Missy asked. “Is this another one of Scott’s whacky adventures? Where is he, anyway?”

  “Well…” I began. “It’s a bit of a story. I don’t exactly know where he is… but I think I saw him about an hour ago after Scott snatched her husband.”

  Clay’s eyebrow rose, “So where do you think he’s going? And what about you ladies?”

  “I think,” I said, “that since he grabbed Marcus in a boat, that he’s going to an island in the Ten G’s. I have a hunch that Sharon’s uncle is helping him.”

  Shelby’s eyes were large and attentive. She was something of a writer, too. She had written a book, I knew, although I don’t think she’d published it yet. But I could see her mind recording all of this for future use.

  “And you’re taking the wife out there?” Missy asked.

  “It could come in handy,” Jackie suggested. “Although I was kidding about kidnapping. My official position as a member of ICE is that she’s in protective custody. It could come down to using her as leverage if necessary.”

  “The problem is that I’m not sure how to get to Rick’s fishing camp,” I stated. “I was there once, a few months back… but I have no idea how to get back out there myself.”

  “Do you want some help?” Clay asked.

  “Yeah!” Shelby said excitedly. “We could get a pontoon boat and go out there… that sounds awesome.”

  “Really?” Missy asked her but probably included all of us.

  “I don’t think it’s dangerous or anything,” I said. “I believe that Scott has gathered all of the suspects in our case, and Rick is helping to hold them all until he can confront them. Sort of an Agatha Christie thing.”

  “Can we, dad?” Shelby asked.

  “Oh, for the love…” Missy groaned. “We’ll see.”

  “How do we find them if you don’t know how?” Clay asked.

  “I’m going to go to Rick’s office tomorrow,” I said. “Either he’ll be there, or I’ll get ahold of Sharon. She can probably help.”

  “In the meantime, we need a place to crash,” Jackie said. “I saw some cabins. I’ll go over to the office and rent one. I wish we had a good place to store the wife.”

  I shrugged, “Gonna have to keep her tied up.”

  At daybreak, Jackie, Natalie and I walked over to the Delaney campsite for breakfast. Morgan and Rocky were very pleased to see us. Clay volunteered to make the eggs and bacon and we all crammed around the picnic table and ate.

  Natalie, although not very happy about being tied to her bed the previous night, was behaving. She’d stated that she wouldn’t cause trouble and that if we were going after the man who took her husband, then she wanted to join the expedition.

  It was decided that Clay and Shelby would accompany Jackie and me. Missy was taking the other two kids to the beach. Aubrey was okay with it. Her experience in Costa Rica the previous summer had soured her a bit on this type of adventure… at least for now.

  Declan, on the other hand, was fit to be tied. He expressed the arbitrariness and inequity of life. He suggested that it logically followed that if Shelby could go, then he too should be allowed to participate as well. His mother stated that he was only eleven and that he’d have to sit this one out. He took it manfully, but everybody knew he was most displeased.

  Sharon met us in Everglades City at Eagle Feather Eco Tours at ten in the morning. She’d brought with her a large gym bag that I recognized.

  “Going on a day trip?” she asked, hugging Shelby an
d Clay.

  “Little exploration,” Clay said. “Did you bring us goodies?”

  Sharon grinned and opened Scott’s bag, “All I could find. The Berserker already has some things, evidently. Got the Mossberg, the Winchester and the AK. Must have the M4 with him on the boat or wherever. Plus, we’ve got a few pistols.”

  “How about for me?” Shelby asked.

  “No ma’am,” Clay said. “I don’t think there will be any trouble… but if there is, I’d rather you not shoot anybody.”

  “I can shoot, dad.”

  “It’s one thing to plink at cans, babe,” Clay stated. “It’s another to shoot at people.”

  “How about for self-defense?” Shelby asked.

  “Tell you what, kid,” Sharon stated. “If things get hairy, I’ve got a 9mm you can hang onto.”

  “I really don’t think there should be a problem,” I stated. “We’re just riding out to the island to check on everyone. If I thought this was going to be dangerous, neither you nor your dad would be here, Shell.”

  Clay made a face.

  “You’re a dad now,” I stated.

  “Life is so unfair,” Clay whined.

  “Really, dad?”

  Clay grinned.

  “Okay, let’s get this goat fudge underway,” Jackie stated.

  “Goat fudge?” I asked.

  “There’s an impressionable young lady about,” Jackie explained.

  I scoffed, “Tell that to Sweary Sally over here.”

  “I’m sure you don’t mean me,” Sharon said, leading us around to the rear of the small store/office building. “I’m as pure as the driven snow.”

  “Yeah… yellow snow,” I quipped.

  “I knew it,” Clay muttered as we began to load the gear into the big pontoon tied to the landing. “We’re all gonna die…”

  28