Wood's Wreck

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Wood's Wreck Page 15

by Steven Becker


  A man came out onto the patio and waved Commando over to an empty section of dock. He waited there while they tied off the lines. “Brought you something I think is yours.”

  “I thank you for that. Who’s your partner with the teeth?” he asked.

  “Just helped me get some tails is all. He’s cool. Got a box full if you’re interested,” Commando answered.

  Trufante sighed in relief that Commando had covered for him. If he just played it cool, maybe he could walk out of here with a pocket full of money. There were other girls he could party with.

  The man leaned over and started to pull the girls from the boat. One fought back, but he slapped her hard across the mouth and the others fell in line.

  “Go on up and get a cooler to put the meat in,” he said to Trufante.

  Trufante got out of the boat with his head down and headed for where the man had pointed on the patio. The sooner they got out of there, the better. He found the cooler and took it back to the boat, then hopped into the cockpit and started loading it with lobster. It was overflowing when he pulled the last one out and jumped back on deck.

  The man had taken the women and gone in with Commando, leaving him standing there thinking about taking the boat and running. Suddenly a voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Well, look who we have here,” Cayenne said as she walked to the edge of the patio.

  Trufante put his best smile on. His only option was to do what he did best. “Well hey there!” He smiled at her. He would have rather bull rushed her and pushed her into the water for all the trouble she had caused, but he kept his cool, knowing that if she was here under the blessing of the man, he needed her as an ally. “What brings you here?”

  “Same thing as you—no good.” She winked at him.

  His smile was more genuine now. Apparently she needed him to keep quiet as well. “Quiet as a gator on the hunt,” he said.

  Chapter 21

  “Commando must have taken Tru and the girls. No one else would have known to come here,” Mac said as he pulled the lobster tail from the grill and bit into it.

  Thinking back, he couldn’t believe it had been only a few days since he had come out here. He was hungrier than he thought and finished the tail in three bites. Mel had cooked a half-dozen of the lobsters he and Tru had pulled the other day, along with some food that Marvin had brought up from his boat to round out the meal.

  “What are you doing mixed up with that low-life?” Mel asked.

  Mac took another tail off the grill. “Guy’s got a radar for when someone’s in trouble, that’s for sure. He came out here with Tru and made an offer on my traps.”

  “You didn’t cut a deal with him, did you?”

  “No. I sent him packing. But now he’s someone I have to watch. Him and those wanna be gangsters will be after me now.” He wanted to change subjects. With less than a week to his first hearing, he needed to act fast.

  “The only way I’m getting out of this is to go get that woman and bring her in. Maybe there’s some leverage with the guy that has the house out there. If I promise to leave him out of this and forget I ever saw him or his operation he might cut a deal and let me take her,” he said.

  “It’s not going to be that easy. He see’s you and he’ll want revenge for your escape. And even if he gives you a pass, she’s crafty. Even if her business here is a bust, you know her father’s not going to let anything happen to her. I’m thinking that Marvin and I head over to Marathon and go talk to Jules. She knows all the players, and you know she’ll do whatever she can to help us.”

  Mac sat back and thought about what she had said. It really wasn’t a bad idea. Get her and Marvin somewhere safe, maybe they could even do some good. Then he could go after the girl for insurance. He also knew dealing with the man on the island was going to be more difficult than he’d made it sound.

  “Sounds good to me. What about taking me out to the rental boat first.” He looked at Marvin. “Your boat use gas or diesel?”

  Marvin stared back blankly. “I have people for that,” he responded.

  “I’ll go have a look, and if it’s regular gas, you could run me out there on your way and siphon some off. I go anywhere near that island with the center console, he’ll know it’s me. He only saw the rental boat at night, might not recognize it if I take that one.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, I want you stuck here until we talk to Jules.” Mel handed him her phone. “You know how to use this?” When he didn’t answer, she took it back and pulled up Marvin’s contact info.

  “You can reach me here,” she said, and handed the phone back to him. “Better leave it off until we leave in the morning or the batteries going to run down.”

  Mac smiled at her, glad that they would be staying the night.

  ***

  Trufante put the cooler on the dock and jumped up next to it.

  “You know we could put that back in the boat, go sell it, and party,” she said.

  Trufante looked down at her and shook his head. “You’ve got no idea who you’re messing with, do you? Guy that owns this boat—” He held up the stub of his finger. “—One of his guys did this. I got no stomach for messin’ with that boy. Hell, girl, it’s only a cooler of lobster—you in that much trouble?”

  She didn’t answer, but headed toward the house holding her head low. He followed a few steps behind her, slowed by the bulk of the cooler, and gave the cage with the dead fish floating in it a wide berth as he set the cooler outside the patio door.

  Commando and the man were at the bar drinking an amber liquid over ice from crystal glasses. A little of that would surely settle his nerves, he thought as he walked toward them.

  “How ‘bout a little of that for the help?” Trufante asked as he put his bare foot on the stainless steel bar rail. Leaning on the granite counter, he was about to reach for the bottle when the man slapped his hand away.

  “You look a little familiar, my friend. Maybe you can tell me where I know you from before we share a drink,” he said.

  “Shoot. Could be anywhere. I been kicking around here for a while. Not sure I know you, though.” He waited for the promised drink.

  The man shrugged. “Name’s Jay.” He poured from the decanter into an empty glass and slid it down the slick bar top.

  Trufante grabbed the glass and set it to his lips, letting the liquid burn against them for a second, as if testing its proof before taking a sip. It was smoother than he expected and he drank nearly all two inches in a single swallow.

  “Easy there, partner,” Jay said as he topped the glass off. “Maybe you ought to give me a little background, seeing as you’re at my house.”

  Trufante was thinking about where to begin when Cayenne came toward them. “I could use a little of that, too. Not nice leaving the girl out, and you know I always cover my debts.” She winked at Jay.

  He poured her a glass and, with the drink in one hand and her back against the bar, she turned to face the living room. “Who’s your quiet friend over there?”

  Trufante followed her gaze to the man sitting deep in the corner of the couch, looking at a magazine. He was dark skinned, his shaven head showing a few days’ stubble. Otherwise he looked like an athlete, but with an edge that he couldn’t put his finger on. There was a lean, hungry look about him. Apparently Cayenne had noticed the look as well.

  “He looks like he could use some company if you’re not interested.” She started over to the couch.

  Jay reached out and grabbed her by the hair. “Don’t touch the merchandise. My friend there is none of your concern.”

  “He’s a grown man. Maybe he should speak for himself.” She broke free of his grasp.

  Trufante knew the look on the man, but couldn’t figure out what it was? There was a clue sitting in front of him and he struggled to put it all together. “Como esta mi amigo,” he called to the man, and knew he was right when he saw the instant recognition on the man’s face.

  He turned
to Jay and took a stab. “Smuggling ballplayers out of Cuba. Now there’s an angle I should have thought up.”

  Jay looked at the man on the couch, his stare forcing the grin from the man’s face. He turned back to the magazine.

  “So what of it?” he said to Trufante.

  “Just acknowledging a genius is all,” Trufante said as he finished his drink. He had no idea where this was going, and he might as well fortify himself if it was going to end badly.

  “You look like an intelligent man. Maybe you have a future with me.” He turned to Commando. “That is, of course, if you don’t need him.”

  Trufante looked over at Commando and winked, catching him before he spoke. “Of course, mi amigo. What is mine is yours,” Commando said, and refilled the three glasses, holding his up for a toast. “To new partners.”

  Trufante ignored the look and toasted. Options were a good thing, and he had just opened a rather large door. He was reveling in his small victory when he heard a scream from the back of the house. Cayenne stormed into view and ran up to Jay.

  “What’s with your harem back there?”

  Trufante looked toward the hall and saw a woman’s head poke back around the corner.

  Jay got up and put his hands on Cayenne’s shoulders. “Just business. You know we have something, right?”

  She stood her ground, but before she could respond there was another scream. Trufante looked over to the couch and saw that the man was gone. He stayed at the bar and watched as Jay went to the back of the house, cautious to stay out of sight of the girls.

  A minute later he came out with the Cuban in front of him, a gun to the back of his head.

  ***

  Mac lay in bed, fighting off the fatigue, determined to wait out Mel. She was almost into a deep enough sleep that he could get up without waking her. Finally her breathing settled and her body jerked. Just a few more minutes now. He counted his breaths until he reached forty-eight, then slid out of bed. She moved slightly and he froze, but then she rolled over and faced the other way.

  He pulled on his damp cargo shorts and headed to the door. After a quick look back at Mel, he snuck into the living room and glanced at Marvin, his body lit by the moonlight coming in through the high windows that Wood had put in for ventilation. He was asleep on the couch. Mac had forced him to stay in the house rather than on the boat, where he had wanted to turn on the generator to run the air-conditioning. The sound would carry for miles out here, and Mac wanted to make sure that nothing attracted the man from the island. It was bad enough the three boats were in plain sight, but there was nothing to be done about that.

  He slithered out of the house, careful to slide his bare feet rather than step in case the floor squeaked, and stepped out into the night. The wind was still blowing, but that didn’t matter for now. Wasting no time, he went down the stairs two at a time and walked toward the shed. He grabbed an old igloo water jug that held a few gallons of water and looked around for a section of hose and a two pronged key used to open gas caps. The moonlight illuminated the path as he made his way toward the beach, swatting mosquitos with his free hand as he went.

  He paused at the sight of the moon, hanging two feet over the water, on its way into the dark night sky, casting white light onto the rippled, dark water. But he had a mission and tore his eyes away from the scene as he waded to the boat. He tossed the cooler over the side and climbed onto the deck, using the swim ladder instead of going over the steep gunwale. Hoping that gas cap design hadn’t changed, he took the rusted gas key from his pocket and breathed a sigh of relief as it fit the two holes recessed into the cap.

  He unscrewed the cap and stuck the end of the hose into the tank. With the cooler open at his feet, he let out his breath and sucked on the end of the hose, waiting for the sting of gas to reach his mouth. Once it came, he took the end of the hose, placed it in the bottom of the cooler, and watched as gas poured from the hose. The cooler was near full and he replaced the gas cap and screwed the plastic lid on.

  Hauling the twenty-plus-pound cooler through the water was harder than he’d thought it would be, and sweat stung his eyes as he made it back to shore. He stashed the gas in the clearing behind the kayak and made his way back to the house.

  Marvin hadn’t moved and he went into the bedroom, where he peeled off his cargo shorts and climbed in bed. At least he had insurance now.

  Chapter 22

  “What the hell is going on here?” someone yelled from the patio.

  Trufante pulled his gaze away from the girls, noticed that the gun remained pointed at the Cuban’s head, and started looking for the source of the new voice. A gun fired and he quickly ducked behind the bar and looked back to Jay, who hadn’t flinched at the shot, and still held the man at gunpoint. There had to be another shooter.

  “Put that gun down—now,” the man said, his voice sounding closer. “That’s valuable property you’re messing with. My property.”

  Trufante peered around the edge of the bar and saw the newcomer walk up to Jay and take the gun from his hand.

  “Nice party you got going on here. You couldn’t wait until you made the transfer?” He wound up as if to strike Jay, but recoiled at the last second. “Now I’m glad I came in unannounced to pick up Armando here.”

  He ordered Jay and Cayenne to the couch with one gun trained on them while he used the other to motion for the Cuban to come toward him. “Get those women out of here. I want them gone now.”

  Jay looked towards Commando and nodded his head. “Take them.”

  A few minutes later, a loud roar could be heard from the water as a motor started, and the man went to the open patio doors. Trufante looked over the bar and saw the stern of Commando’s boat as it dug into the water, the propellors trying to generate enough inertia to push the boat forward.

  “Who the hell was that?” the man asked.

  Jay got up and ran toward the doors. “It’s just a dude I use for supplies. Those girls won’t be a problem. Trust me on that one.”

  The man turned toward him. “You have jeopardized this whole operation. I’ve overlooked your petty smuggling for years, but now I have the best earner we’ve ever had standing right here and you’ve got a party going on.” He looked around the room. “There’s guns and hookers. I wouldn’t be surprised to find a pile of cocaine somewhere.”

  Trufante wondered if he had missed something.

  “It’s not like that,” Jay said defensively. “Just bad timing. That guy, Commando, is a piece of shit. Just let it go. The player is here.” He looked at the man. “And you have the payment?”

  The man wound up, smashed the gun into Jay’s temple, and stood over him as he went to the floor.

  “You get your payment as always—when he gets his first paycheck. You think I’m fronting your ass money?”

  Cayenne had moved to the bar and poured herself a large drink while the men fought. Trufante couldn’t help but be distracted by her bare leg, just inches away from his face, but tried to ignore the mention of cocaine and the lure of the flesh. He had been in enough bad situations to know he wanted out of this one, so he slid back and crouched at the opening between the bar and the house wall. He couldn’t see the men from here, and more than likely they couldn’t see him either. It appeared the confrontation was over, and they were working out what to do next.

  They moved to the bar and he heard the unmistakable sound of good booze pouring into expensive glasses. “And who might this lovely creature be?” the man asked Jay.

  “Hi,” she slurred. “I’m Cayenne, but my friends call me Cay. Do you want to be my friend?”

  “Well, darling, I’m Norm.”

  Trufante heard the clink of glasses as they toasted.

  “You two want to knock it off before I puke?” Jay asked, and they laughed. “No, seriously, I’d keep my distance from this one if I were you. Been there and done that. Nothing but trouble.”

  “Asshole,” Cayenne spat.

  He heard a crash an
d a scream, and then feet shuffled and someone fell to the floor. With a quick glance, he saw Jay and Cayenne wrestling on the floor. The man named Norm got up from his stool and went to break them up.

  Thinking this might be his best chance, Tru sprinted from the bar, making the ten feet to the patio doors. Risking a quick look, he saw Cayenne kicking and pulling at both men as they lifted her from the floor. All three had their backs to him as he ran from the house onto the dock.

  He saw the smaller rental boat that Norm had come in on. Risking another glance back, he ran across the dock, jumped into the boat, and went straight for the helm. The engine started on the first try, still warm from its run here, and he went to untie the lines when a bullet grazed his arm.

  Ignoring the pain, he rushed back to the helm, staying low as two more shots were fired. Not caring about damage to the dock or boat, he backed hard to port and immediately slammed the throttles forward.

  Crouched behind the helm, he was thrown to the deck as the boat careened off the dock. He rose enough to see over the dashboard, aware of the bullets zipping over his head. More shots were fired and the windshield shattered as he ducked and pushed the throttle all the way forward, driving blindly into the cove.

  He heard screams from the dock and the start of an engine as the boat scraped against the mangrove-lined bank, then took a chance and looked up to see the last switchback directly ahead. There was more screaming on the dock, but then the sound of the other boat’s engine changed and he knew they were in pursuit.

  The boat bounced as he crossed his own wake on the last turn before hitting open water, and then he was in the clear. He glanced back, but the other boat hadn’t emerged. Wasting no time, he maxed out the throttle and sped away into the night.

  The boat was on plane now and he crossed the Cudjoe Channel and sped toward Crane Key. The engine screamed as he pressed the button that raised the angle of the outboard from the water. The top of the propeller was catching air now and he lowered the engine a few inches until it bit.

 

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