“I’m sorry to bother you, Captain, but I got kind of an emergency going on.”
The old shark fisherman focused his eyes on the other person on the plank, tilted his head to the side just a bit, and smiled some for the first time.
“Howdy, ma’am!” A scarred hand tipped the ragged captain’s hat. “I remember you. Consuelo, ain’t it? I never forget a purty gal!” A big wink. “Come on aboard while I slip into something more comfortable.” Which turned out to be an old pair of shorts, since the hat was all he’d been wearing.
While Taco Bob and Consuelo came aboard, the dog made its way unsteadily towards the stern and started retching on the aft deck of the old converted shrimpboat. The shark man popped out of the cabin and plopped into the shiny new fighting chair on deck.
“Don’t pay him no mind. Dog’s meaner’n a bull with a knot in his tail most times, but gets the motion sickness at the drop of a hat. That breed’s the best watchdog there is, as long as it’s on land.” He pulled an open can of beer from one of the big pockets on his shorts and took a quick pull while giving his guests the eye. “Hmm. Taco Something, ain’t it? As I remember, every time you come around it’s because you got some kinda wild-ass crazy notion you feel compelled to share with me. But what the hell, let’s hear it, I got a few minutes ‘til the ball game starts on TV.” Before Taco Bob could say anything, Shark Hunter leaned closer to Consuelo and whispered. “You like popcorn young lady? How about football? I’m about to make a bucket of popcorn and watch the game.” This was followed by a full smile and another wink before he turned his attention back to the tall man with the anxious look.
“Captain Hunter, one of Consuelo’s sisters has been kidnapped by a very dangerous man. He also boat-jacked my Wilbur cruiser and Skunk Johnson, a man I believe you met.”
“Skunk? Sure, I remember him, my kinda people. Was thinking of offering him a job crewing for me. Getting harder all the time to find good help. Seems like these days nobody wants to work long, hard hours at a hazardous job for little or no pay.” He looked over at Consuelo. “Sorry to hear about your sister.”
Consuelo nodded. “Can you help us?”
“Oh, probably. Let me get that popcorn going and you can tell me the details at halftime. Maybe we can get right on it after the game.”
The old captain started to get up but Taco Bob held up a hand. “We just need to keep an eye on an exchange at Mallory. Keep a safe distance and make sure this guy puts Consuelo’s sister Lydia ashore. What happens after that, I’m not sure.”
“Sounds like fun all right. Let me just get that popcorn going so we can leave right after the game.”
Shark Hunter jumped out of his seat and headed for the cabin. Taco Bob looked at Consuelo and didn’t like what he saw. She knew how to run the boat, and he realized she was taking the boat – alone if need be. There was only one thing he could do – what he should have already done. He held up a finger towards Consuelo hoping she’d give him one more shot at it.
“Captain Hunter. What I meant to say is, we need to charter a trip and I’ve got cash.”
There was another loud crash in the cabin a second before Shark Hunter appeared at the doorway wearing his best smile.
“A charter? Well, why didn’t you say so?” As soon as Taco Bob handed over a roll of bills, the old boat captain fired up the engine and started yelling out orders.
“You two get those lines while I check the weather.”
Queequeg jumped ashore and gave a couple of farewell barks as lines were cast and preparations made to get underway. Shark Hunter came out of the cabin as the boat eased away from the dock.
“Damn radio’s down. Guess I’ll have to check the weather the old fashioned way.” He looked up the corroded tuna tower. “What’s the weather look like up there?”
Taco Bob was surprised to see what he’d thought was a wadded-up, lumpy raincoat unfurl, and then stand up. The thin man looked all around then gave two thumbs down. The captain just shrugged.
“That’s what I thought. Guess I’ll have to give you the special rate for my Lost Lunch Shark Adventure since it looks like a mighty rough trip.” He tried to give some money back but Taco Bob declined. “Well, in that case, I’ll throw in an extra bucket of my secret shark chum if we do any fishing, or else a round of beers when we get back.”
Consuelo was all frowns. “Let’s just make sure my sister gets back all right.”
The man up on the tuna tower had been watching the storm clouds but looked down when he heard her.
“Better get your coat, dear, it looks like rain.”
All eyes looked up. The captain shook his head.
“They call him The Seer. Man sleeps most of the time and ain’t good for much except lookout. Not to mention he’s got a mighty limited vocabulary. That’s the most I’ve heard him say since he signed on a few days ago.”
Taco Bob showed Shark Hunter on the chart just where the exchange was supposed to go down. With the weather looking worse by the minute, the captain broke out rain-suits and life jackets for everyone. Consuelo slipped into the cabin just long enough to call her sisters.
As soon as they got out of the small harbor the seas picked up and things got serious fast. With the old boat beating into the waves, Taco Bob chanced a quick look at his watch.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it.”
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Sara
“I don’t think they’re going to make it. Looks like we may be on our own.”
Sara held her sister’s trembling hand as they stood in the wind and rain watching Lucky. She didn’t know if Josephine’s hand trembled from fear or anger. Or both. Sara did know better than to look into her sister’s eyes to find out.
They wore yellow raincoats and hats, as did Slip, who was only a few steps away taking pictures as the sisters posed. They’d planned to mingle with the tourists, but the weather had taken care of that plan – they had the place to themselves.
Sara waved and smiled to the camera while keeping an eye out on the rain-swept water trying to spot the Wilbur. The only boat in sight so far was a cruise ship offshore waiting for the weather to break.
“Come on, Josey.”
Sara pulled her younger sister over to Slip for a huddle. They pretended to look at Slip’s camera.
“Slip, this Reverend character should be here any minute now and I sure don’t see any sign of Shark Hunter.”
“Yeah, I know. Let’s just hope we can get Lydia off that boat.”
Sara glanced over at the lone figure a hundred feet away standing next to a handtruck with a beer keg. Then she saw it.
“Okay, you two, don’t turn around. I think I see the Wilbur coming. Let’s go back to our picture routine.”
It was Taco Bob’s old cruiser all right. Coming around the north side.
Sara held her sister’s hand again as they waved to Slip and tried not to look at the approaching boat bouncing in the heavy seas.
Sara hoped with all her being that this maniac would give them Lydia when he got the treasure from Lucky. But if he didn’t, she had a plan of her own.
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Josephine
Josephine saw the boat coming now. Still too far away to see anyone on board, but it was definitely the right boat.
She just wanted to get Lydia back and go home. She didn’t like the rain, especially when it was washing off one of her best makeup jobs ever. She’d had Sara and herself made-up to look like little old ladies.
And Ben hadn’t been any help, at all. They’d had a spat just before she left, so now while Ben was back at the hotel all dry and comfortable, she was out here wet and miserable.
She took a quick glance over her shoulder. Still too far away to be sure, but the big guy on the boat looked like the one who’d come into the hotel that time. If she’d known then that the asshole would kidnap her sister, Josephine would have cheerfully snatched off those sunglasses a
nd clawed his eyes out.
And given half a chance, she would still.
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Slip
Slip kept taking pictures as he walked around to the other side of the two sisters. He wanted their backs to the boat so they’d quit looking over that way as it got closer.
“Say cheese, ladies!”
They both stuck tongues out at that, so he snapped another picture. Actually, he just pressed the button, the rain had already gotten to the camera.
But he kept up the charade while the sisters smiled and waved. Both sisters picked up their props – beer bottles to complete the image of drunken tourists posing for the camera. Then the boat stopped moving, obviously checking out Lucky standing there, and the sister’s routine.
Slip had been thinking earlier about his days in the military, thinking about the boxing matches. He’d been pretty good at one time, and would love nothing better than a good clean shot at the fucker who’d grabbed Consuelo’s sister.
In the short time he’d known Consuelo she’d become one of the best friends he’d ever had. She made it clear straight away she wasn’t interested in anything more than fishing buddies, which was fine with him, though it was a bit difficult being around such an attractive young woman when she was showing off for Taco.
At least Taco seemed to be coming down out of the clouds about Trish. Slip tended to think the poor fella was trying a little too hard sometimes to fulfill his idea of the perfect tropical lifestyle. Though he had to admit an attractive woman with her own restaurant was a happy thought, no matter how crazy she might be. And when it came right down to it, who could blame someone trying to live a lifestyle like that? Especially someone who’d spent years eating dust as a possum rancher in Texas.
Now the two sisters were arm-in-arm, taking swigs off the beer bottles and laughing. That ought to convince the big fucker looking their way from the Wilbur.
Yep, the boat’s turned and coming in now.
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Lucky
Lucky stood on the edge of the dock getting soaked to the skin not only from the rain, but also from the waves as they crashed against the concrete at his feet. But he didn’t move. Nor did he take his eyes off the boat as it slowly approached.
Lucky thought about the last time he’d been to Mallory Square. Lydia had been at his side that day and the weather couldn’t have been nicer. Now the wind and rain lashed at him and Lydia stood unsteadily fifty feet away on the deck of a rocking boat with the Reverend’s arm around her neck and a gun pointed at her head. Skunk was at the controls and looked scared to death as he tried to back the boat to the dock while the madman screamed orders at him.
Lydia met Lucky’s eyes and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
Lucky was sorry too, more than he could say. He was ready to hand over the beer keg full of gold bars and coins, he just wanted Lydia safe.
The Reverend wore a black cowboy hat, but had his sunglasses off. Lucky could see the bizarre shark tattoo around his right eye clearly for the first time.
If the crazy bastard did anything to Lydia, Lucky would do his best to put a bullet in that eye.
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Lydia
Lydia wasn’t as sick as she’d been earlier, but she was still a bit wobbly and had a terrible headache. The gas fumes in the trunk of the Reverend’s car had almost been too much. If it hadn’t been for the air coming in from the two bullet holes in the side of the trunk she might not have made it.
But being out in the wind and rain was starting to clear her head. Her hands were still tied behind her back but at least her feet were free and the gag was gone. Of course, now this big bastard had a headlock on her and kept jamming the barrel of a big chrome handgun against her cheek. She just wasn’t having a very good day.
“I said back her up SLOW!” The Reverend took the gun away from her face long enough to smack poor Skunk in the back if the head with the gun barrel again. Jeez but this sucks.
And there’s poor Lucky standing alone on the dock looking like a drowned rat. That must be the treasure in the beer keg. Poor guy.
Lydia didn’t have any idea what to do, but she knew she had to do something.
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Skunk
Skunk never did do all that well under pressure, any kind of pressure. Sometimes it was all he could handle just to make up his mind whether he wanted paper or plastic. And this was a lot worse. About as worse as worse can get, Skunk figured.
It wasn’t bad enough being so scared he was about to mess his britches trying to back Taco Bob’s boat up to a concrete wharf in pitching seas. No, now this big bastard with the crazy tattoo has to keep screaming at him and whacking him in the head with that damn gun.
“Keep coming back! We’re almost there!”
Crazy sonofabitch sure liked yelling. Skunk just wanted to see Lydia on that dock, get this shit over with. But with the way the waves were tossing the boat around Skunk was almost certain the boat would crash into the wharf and they’d all end up downed.
Okay, almost to where Lucky’s standing now. Skunk wasn’t much on planning, but he did have a plan if all else failed. It was a lousy plan and he doubted Taco Bob would ever talk to him again if he did it, but by Gawd, Skunk Johnson wasn’t going down without a fight.
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The Reverend
It was all drums now. The drums from The Song were louder than the wind whistling, or the waves crashing, or the boat engine straining. The drums were louder and clearer than they’d ever been.
“Bring her back! SLOW! Not all the way yet! Hold it there!”
Mister Lucky didn’t look so sure of himself now, standing ten feet away in the rain and wind. Jam the gun in the girls face harder. It was time.
“Show me the money, boy!”
Lucky reached down, pried the top off the beer keg and held up exactly what the Reverend wanted to see.
“Throw it! Throw what you have in your hand!”
A handful of coins, some still in plastic wrappers rained down onto the deck of the boat. He held the girl closer while he stooped down to grab one of the coins. She tried to break free so he swatted her a good one in the face with the gun. She got a lot more cooperative, but Lucky didn’t seem to like that move.
“Steady, boy, or she gets a lot worse than that!” He put the coin in his pocket and looked over at the man called Skunk.
“Take us up to the dock! Easy, now!” The drums in his head were the sweetest sound he had ever heard. “Put the top back on that keg and roll it aboard when we get close enough!” He pushed the gun harder into the girls face just so Lucky would remember who was in charge here.
“Come back! Another two feet!” Damn but the boat was rocking up and down in the waves. “Hold it! Hold it steady!”
There was a sickening crunch as the back of the old boat met the concrete and started smashing against the dock.
“Push it in! Push it in now!”
And here it came. The keg rolled off the dock, hit the edge of the boat and crashed onto the deck. The top came off and coins and gold bars spilled out of the keg and scattered across the rain-slick deck. The Reverend almost pushed the girl away to jump on the treasure but caught himself just in time. He didn’t have to worry, the treasure was in the boat and not going anywhere except with him.
“Give me the woman! You have the treasure!”
Lucky stood there with his arms out, the back of the boat smashing into the dock with each wave. The drums were so sweet now, in perfect rhythm with the waves.
He’d done it, he had the treasure, now he could have anything he wanted. Looking at Lucky with his arms outstretched, The Reverend knew what he wanted first. He turned towards the man at the helm without taking his eyes off Lucky.
“Full speed forward! NOW!” That was it, that was what he wanted – the look on Lucky�
�s face. “Get us away from the dock or I’ll blow her head off!”
The boat moved away slowly, then a little faster. He took his eyes off of Lucky for just a second and was rewarded with the look of terror on Skunk’s face.
“Full speed ahead! Get us out of here!”
When he looked back at the dock, Lucky was holding a gun and pointing it at the Reverend’s head. In the corner of his eye he saw a flash of yellow on the dock.
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55
Lucky
Lucky couldn’t get a clear shot at the Reverend with the boat bouncing so badly in the rough seas. He didn’t want to take a chance on hitting Lydia. But he kept the sights on the Reverend’s head as best he could anyway. The boat was moving away.
Something moved to his left and he saw a yellow raincoat catch the wind as it came off one of Lydia’s sisters. The slender woman was wearing a one-piece swimsuit and running flat out. She had a big dive knife strapped to her leg and she dove off the dock into the waves like an Olympic swimmer.
The Reverend saw her too, and the boat was still within thirty feet of the dock when the young woman squirted out of the water behind the boat and grabbed onto the edge. She started pulling herself up when the Reverend smashed one of her hands with the gun. But she still held on until the bastard shot her other hand.
The young woman fell back into the water as Lucky realized the wailing behind him wasn’t the wind, but the other sister screeching as she fought to break free from Slip.
The boat was too far now for any chance of a shot at the Reverend. The crazy bastard was laughing. He even waved.
Key Lucky Page 12
