Coastal Fury Boxset (1-3)

by Matt Lincoln

Ethan nodded. “We looked at them, especially one who had extensive military service. They all had alibis.”

  “Could someone from MediWaste have taken the boat?” Holm rocked back in his chair. Tessa worried that he might fall if he tipped any further. “They would’ve had to take it and leave it in the area. That’s a hell of a haul to get from Tampa and around Cuba.”

  Ethan shook his head. “I don’t have an answer for that. My best guess is they port-hopped. They must have a bigger boat for longer hauls.” He pulled something up on the tablet he was using. “These barrels have been found throughout the Caribbean in those secondary dump sites I briefed you all about.”

  Tessa thought about the connections Ethan had as a former SEAL. If someone else had those kinds of connections but didn’t have the ethics he maintained, an operation like this would be doable. She bit her lip. She was an observer, not part of the team.

  “Tessa?” Ethan broke through her train of thought.

  “Yeah?”

  “You look like you had an idea.”

  All eyes landed on her. She’d spoken in front of audiences of hundreds, maybe thousands, but in this small meeting space, she felt more self-conscious than she had in a while.

  “I think you’re right to look at people who have military experience,” she told them. “What you aren’t saying is that it almost has to be someone who had extensive experience, like special forces. If these people are working with a network, that would explain how they have the resources to get this operator to the dumpsites. Either that, or it’s some rich asshole with money to burn.”

  “It could be a little of both,” Warner said. He tapped at his keyboard. “MediWaste has hundreds of employees. Sedin has a couple dozen. I can find out who matches that description.”

  “And see who was MIA today,” Ethan added. “That little plane wouldn’t get them all the way to Florida, but they could get to Belize and move from there.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been on that.” Warner frowned. “Records are spotty here. I think someone’s getting paid off to fudge the logs.”

  “Maybe that’s why the Sedin people haven’t noticed their boat isn’t home,” Tessa suggested. “If they only take it out once a month, and if someone knows that schedule, they won’t have missed it.”

  Ethan rubbed both of his palms across his face. “That’s it for tonight. Shower, muster in the garage, and we’ll get some chow at that tavern.”

  Tessa slumped in her chair as everyone left the meeting room. So much for a private date where she could share the news about the Dragon’s Rogue. Ethan and his grandfather only got so far before the old man passed away, but in the past year, he and Tessa found the body of Ethan’s ancestor who owned the ship before it was taken by the pirate, Mad Dog Grendel, and a bag of coins near the remains. More recently, Ethan and others found a cannonball and thirty silver coins from someone made to walk the Dragon’s Rogue’s plank.

  “Tessa?” Ethan stopped in front of her. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll go get ready.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Tessa smiled over the disappointment at the lack of privacy, but the message from South Carolina was too important to wait.

  25

  The tavern in Belize City was a little too much like home, but it seemed to hit the spot for my team. Tessa, I wasn’t so sure about. She sat next to me at the long table the waitstaff put together and glanced over the menu.

  “Shrimp po’boy and a cola,” she ordered almost as an afterthought.

  “Okay, what’s on your mind?” I asked with a playful jab at her arm.

  “Huh?” Tessa shook her head. “I’m trying to think about the best way to tell you something.”

  My gut sank. Conversations that started out like that rarely ended well, especially if I wasn’t the one starting them.

  “I’m listening whenever you’re ready.”

  Across the table, Bonnie and Clyde looked at each other and squirmed. This wasn’t how I envisioned the last night in Belize City going.

  “Oh, it’s nothing bad,” Tessa told us. Her cheeks reddened. “It’s good news. Well, mixed but mostly good. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  She smiled at me, and my breath caught. Sometimes, those emerald eyes of her took me by surprise and locked me in. For a moment, I thought about running my fingers through her hair. She’d kept it in a ponytail all day, but it was down for the evening.

  “I reached out a while back to a history professor who specializes in the American South to Southeast. He’s based in Charleston, South Carolina, so he was happy to look up old records relating to piracy in the late seventeen hundreds.”

  My heart quickened. It’d been a while since I could do any research about the pirate ship my Gramps and I hunted together.

  “Is that the news you got tonight?”

  I grinned at her nod and saw that Bonnie and Clyde weren’t the only ones listening. Holm, Muñoz, and Birn also perked up at the mention of piracy. Warner didn’t know anything about the Dragon’s Rogue, as far as I knew.

  Her smile damned near knocked me out, I swear.

  “It is.” She looked around the table. “We know that pirate crews ranged up the East Coast. Charlestown was brand new at the time, and the records are super rare.”

  The one time a little delay wouldn’t have hurt, our food was delivered at that moment. Tessa dug right into her shrimp po’boy.

  “Hey, you’re telling a story,” I protested even as a monster-sized, double-cheese, smothered-in-all-sorts-of-goodness burger was placed in front of me. “No more suspense for today.”

  Tessa laughed as the others agreed. Warner perked up as he realized what we were talking about, and Bonnie quietly got him up to speed as Tessa relented.

  “Okay, okay,” she began. “Professor Parish found records that were scanned in a few months ago. It turns out that less than a year before the Dragon’s Rogue disappeared in 1692, Captain Grendel was arrested for piracy. It doesn’t say how he was captured, just that he escaped a hanging.” She looked at me. “Ethan, the students who are scanning records found what may have been pages from Grendel’s logs. They would’ve been confiscated by Charleston officials.”

  “What’d they talk about?” I had to know, even if it wasn’t relevant to finding the wreckage.

  “It looks like he had a wife on Grand Bahama Island, somewhere between where West End and Freeport are today.” Tessa beamed. “You told me that you and your grandfather narrowed down the wreckage location. Somewhere between Miami and the Bahamas, right?”

  I nodded. It would’ve been great to get this close while Gramps was alive, but I knew he was enjoying the ride from above. Still, I had to take a few swigs of beer to get the lump out of my throat.

  “That’s fantastic, Tessa,” I said for her ears alone. “Thank you.”

  She nodded and went back to her po’boy, but I did not miss the smug glint in her eye from knowing she did a good thing. Meanwhile, the conversation at the table moved right into talk of pirating throughout the centuries, from the Golden Age through the present day.

  After the talk had died down and food and beer were had by all, we beat it back to the villa. Muñoz and Birn had to get their required hours of sleep before flying us home in the morning, and the rest of us had to get our gear packed. It was going to be a tighter fit this time, as Tessa was given the green light to travel with us.

  “Want to see some of the photos I’ve been working on?” she asked when we got upstairs.

  “Absolutely.”

  I hadn’t had a chance to see what she’d captured so far. And, if things went well, I might be able to see more than her photos.

  “Have a seat while I get my laptop booted.” She closed her door and then went to the simple desk she’d been using. I sat in the guest chair by the desk. “I download them from my camera each night and go through to find shots that’ll work for the feature.”

  She went on about the process and
how they chose what to publish, but I had a hard time focusing on her words. Her lips moved and curved in the glow of her screen, and the joy of her work touched her eyes. Some photos caught my interest, especially the ones from the dive and when we went down in the sub. Some were downright ethereal, like the look we got when Header shined his spotlight into the cavern with the giant stalactites. That was where she stopped the digital tour.

  “You aren’t listening, are you?” she teased.

  “I gotta confess, I’m a little distracted.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Not the most stellar conversation twist, but the message was sent and received. Funny thing… I never made it to my room that night. Another funny thing was that neither of us remembered to set our morning alarms. We woke to someone pounding on the door.

  “Tessa, is Ethan in there?” Bonnie called out. “You better both be in there because we’re already running late.”

  “I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Tessa answered as she threw off the covers. “Shoot, I forgot to pack before going to sleep.”

  “I’ll go grab my things,” I told her. “Let me know if you need help carrying stuff.”

  By some miracle, we both made it to the garage within ten minutes. Bonnie was in the driver’s seat, and from the firm look on her face, it was clear she wasn’t giving up the keys for anyone. For all her complaints about our tardiness, it was her slow, over-careful driving that made us late to meet the team at Bette Davis.

  “Our phones have these great things called ‘apps,’ Marston,” Muñoz informed me. She only called me by my last name anymore when she was pissed at me. “The alarm clock apps are, surprise, there to wake you in the morning. Wherever you sleep.” She winked at Tessa as they loaded Tessa’s prized photography equipment into the cargo area.

  Tessa and I took facing seats, and Holm sat across the aisle. He took great delight in stretching out and propping his heels up on the seat across from him.

  “You’re not that much taller,” I told him.

  “Tall enough,” he chuckled.

  Once we were airborne, Tessa brought up the documents in South Carolina.

  “They’re hard to read,” she told me. “Professor Parish and others are trying different methods to restore what they can. Some may never be readable. For now, they’re holding out hope.”

  “That’s incredible,” Holm said in a hushed voice. “It’s amazing what modern technology can and can’t do.”

  I wished I could say something to help him. We hadn’t spoken about his sister since the other night. Unless there was evidence to the contrary, she’d left on her own, and there was little we could do, technically speaking.

  “Oh.” Tessa grimaced a little. “So, I found out something else yesterday.”

  I did not like the wrinkled brow and the slight cringe on her face. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “While he was looking into pirate research, Professor Parish learned that there are attempts to use satellite imagery to search for shipwrecks. Some of the hardcore treasure hunters are comparing possible sites from the images with known information about various wrecks.”

  “Has anyone actually succeeded in this?” I asked.

  “One that I know of. They found something last year, but they aren’t releasing many details.”

  I released my breath. “I’m not going to worry unless they start finding a bunch of wrecks.”

  “What plans do you have for now?” She leaned forward like a kid eager to hear a new story.

  I laughed. “I have to check out that stretch on Grand Bahama as soon as I get a day off.” As she grinned, I thought how nice it would be to have her along for that. “When I have some sites to explore, I’ll figure it out from there. Right now, I’m thinking about getting a seaplane and getting my pilot’s license so I can eyeball some of the areas from above.”

  Holm sat up. “At least a seaplane wouldn’t drown in two feet of water.”

  I sagged back into my seat. “Don’t remind me. Think they’ll have a new car ready?”

  “Do I want to know?” Tessa leaned back in her seat.

  “Yes,” I told her. “And someday, maybe you will.”

  26

  We had a whole one hour to report to our office after landing in Miami. It was the noon rush, and I didn’t have a car. Tessa rented a convertible on her uncle’s dime, and I did not mind one bit as we flew down the highway toward the marina where I lived.

  “Serves him right,” she shouted over the wind. “If he keeps sticking his nose into the wrong places, it’s gonna get bit.”

  “I won’t argue that.”

  We dropped everything but her camera off at my houseboat, the Mariah Jean. I barely got to get changed into my work clothes and shoulder holster before we had to leave for the MBLIS offices. Even though we picked up a bucket of chicken on the way, we were the first to arrive from the airport.

  “Sedin is in holding,” Diane told me as soon as I found her, “and that smells good. You sharing?”

  Tessa held out the chicken bucket. “Director Ramsey, it is my pleasure to share broasted chicken with you.”

  Diane snagged a leg and pointed at me with it. “That’s the kind of respect that’ll get you places, Ethan.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said with a wink. “I’m also buying drinks at Mike’s bar tonight.” I knew Diane could go, but I had to rub it in a little.

  Holm arrived as Tessa and I finished eating. To my absolute astonishment, he took the largest piece left in the bucket and proceeded to polish it off in less than a minute.

  Diane went down to holding to observe with Tessa. Sedin was already in the room and chained to the table. Before we went in, Diane handed me a folder with new information about our suspect.

  “Sedin waived his right to an attorney,” she told us. “The guy is either innocent or arrogant. Maybe both.” She frowned. “The guy got caught dealing Ritalin in college. He was a biomed major, of all things. We haven’t contacted Marci Anderson to find out if she knew about this when they started a company together.”

  “If someone found out, they could blackmail him into cooperating,” Holm pointed out. “Or if he discovered something, they could force him to keep quiet.”

  “I don’t see a motive for anyone other than profit,” Diane said. “Sedin and Anderson are the only people who would stand to profit. Charge full fees, take some of the materials for legal dumping at exorbitant costs and then transport the rest to sites where they shouldn’t be found. It’s a pain but still costs less than the legal route.”

  “That’s one of the angles we’re looking at,” I told her.

  “He’s not feeling it,” Holm said. “I’m not sure I do, either. Someone went through a lot of effort to pull those materials from the chain of custody.”

  “Not to mention doing something to make the radiation more potent,” I added. “And moving it to neon green barrels that Sedin Disposal doesn’t use.”

  Diane looked back and forth between us. “Do you have a theory?”

  “Not really,” I admitted with a slight head shake. “But I keep coming back to why those materials were stronger than they ever should’ve been.”

  “Lemon shouldn’t have been hurt, let alone killed, by that exposure,” Holm said as he crossed his arms. “It’s like whoever did this wanted someone to get hurt.”

  “Not at the Blue Hole.” I hooked my thumbs into my pockets as dread seeped into my gut. “That was an accident. I’m sure of it. Yesterday’s attack was about trying to mitigate the mess somehow.”

  “A fat lot of good that did,” Holm muttered. “So if Dare Lemon’s death was an accident, what are they trying to do on purpose?”

  “Let’s see what Sedin has to say.” I started toward the interview room.

  “Lean on him, but not so much that he rescinds the waiver,” Diane ordered. “Whether you’re feeling it or not, we need to be thorough. The boat used in the attack yesterday belonged to his compan
y. So far, all the evidence leads to him and accomplices.”

  “Except for the green barrels,” I reminded her.

  Holm and I pushed through the steel door to face Sedin.

  “You’re wasting time,” Sedin said as soon as we entered. “Look at Devon Cole. MediWaste is the problem, not us.”

  I grabbed one of the metal chairs, flipped it around backward, and sat. The tactic was cliché because it worked. Holm was all business as he took his seat and set a large-screen tablet on the table. It displayed Sedin’s record from when he was busted for selling Ritalin eleven years earlier.

  “Right now, the evidence points to you,” I informed him and pointed at the tablet. “It’s not like you never had trouble with the law.”

  Sedin looked at the screen and flinched. “That was years ago and a one-time thing,” he protested. “I made a stupid mistake and paid for it.”

  “Does your partner know about that little mistake?” I pressed.

  “No.” He shook his head and looked down. “I was afraid she’d refuse to work with me. I tried to get in with other investors before, and that always ruined the deals.”

  “So you hid it from her,” Holm stated. “What would’ve happened if she’d found out?”

  “I don’t know. Early on, she was stuck with me. There was too much money on the line for it not to work out.” He fiddled with the chain between his cuffs. “She would’ve been angry, but there wasn’t much she could’ve done.”

  “What about this year?” I rocked forward on my chair. “Say someone threatened to expose your records unless you helped them out here and there. Loan them a boat, turn your back on missing materials. Order them special barrels.”

  He shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t. I made a bad choice, but it wasn’t murder or robbery.”

  “You’re running a successful business, Tim. If word got out that you sold drugs to college students, clients would drop you like a hot coal.”

  “But it wasn’t like that—”

  “Wasn’t it?” I pressed. “Prescription drug abuse is big news these days, right there with the opiate crisis. Not good, man.”