“The Coasties brought you here to Bay Front, and Bill Lester drove up to vouch for you. They operated on your ankle, sewed up your shoulder, and put you in this delightful room with me to watch over you.”
“Where are the pretty nurses?”
“There ain’t any. It was me or some ancient battle ax who thinks you’re kinda cute.”
“Geez. What about Rundel? Did you know he was on Egmont?”
“Yeah. Dead as a doornail.”
“What?” I asked. “He was trying to con the ranger when I passed out.”
“The only guy left alive was some moke Rundel picked up in Miami to steal a boat. Rundel had a bunch of palm fronds sticking out of his neck.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“Yeah, the guy from Miami was telling the Coasties he was Rundel. Dumb ass didn’t know there was a warrant out for Rundel. He tried to con the Ranger who found you, but he wasn’t having any of that. He held you both at gunpoint until the Coasties got there. They put you on a stretcher on the back of the Ranger’s ATV and took you to the beach so the chopper could pick you up.”
“What happened to the guy from Miami?”
“There was a Marine Patrol boat nearby, and he came right over. He saw your boat and the go-fast, checked the registration, and found that the go-fast was stolen. Yours came back fine. They held the other guy for the sheriff and sent you here.
“I guess they weren’t taking any chances, because you still had cuffs on when they got you here. They called Bill Lester after checking your driver’s license, and Bill called me.”
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Almost midnight.”
“What day?”
“Wednesday. You’ve been out for about eight hours since the shooting.”
“I missed the literary meeting.” I said.
“That you did, but you’ve given the ladies enough to gossip about for weeks. They won’t even miss you.”
Epilogue
Two days later, Logan drove me home, across the Sunshine Skyway, Manatee Avenue and Longboat Pass bridges. Home to Longboat Key. Because my shoulder was still healing, I could not use crutches, and found myself plunked unceremoniously into a wheel chair. Logan wheeled me to the pool at my condo complex, and there I found a large group of friends, drinking, laughing, and holding a banner that said, “Welcome Home, Matt.” The Key was coming back to life, moving on without Connie Sanborne, a little sadder for the experience, but still exuberant with the essential joy of life on a small island resting in the sun. Life was good.
Table of Contents
Longboat Blues
© 2005 H. Terrell Griffin. All Rights Reserved.
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Longboat Blues Page 25
