Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series)

by Wayne Stinnett

  “Sure,” I said. “Hinkle and Mitchel are good men, just a little aloof.”

  Back in the clearing, we joined the others. “One last thing,” Stockwell said. “If we’re going to use this place for training and staging, we need to know the name of the island.”

  “It doesn’t have a name,” Jackie said. “Just one of many little islands in the Content Keys.”

  “So what do you call it, Jesse,” he asked.

  “Never called it anything. Just ‘the island’.”

  “Guess that’s good enough, then,” he said. “We’ll just call it The Island.”

  He and the pilot climbed back in the Huey, Stockwell in the co-pilot’s seat. Minutes later, they lifted off and headed southwest. The sun was heading toward the horizon and I wanted to get to Boca Chica well before sunset. “We have about 50 miles to go to get to the marina,” I told the others. “If we’re going to make it and still have time to eat, we better get going.”

  We said goodbye to Trent and I once again had to tell Pescador to stay here. He didn’t look to happy about it. We untied the two boats, boarded and started the engines. I yelled across the Cigarette to Julie, “On the key fob, push the unlock button to open your door.” She nodded and pushed the button, as I pushed the same button on mine and the two doors slowly began to swing outward on their big spring loaded hinges.

  When the door was fully open, I put the engines in forward and idled out from under the house. Once clear, Julie slowly pulled out behind me and I pointed the key fob aft and pushed the lock button. The electric motor started pulling the door closed and I saw that Julie had done the same thing, closing the east door.

  At the end of my channel, I turned northeast into Harbor Channel and brought the big boat up on plane. Looking back, I saw that Julie was up on plane as well, maintaining a safe distance.

  “Isn’t Boca Chica the other way?” Jackie asked from the second seat.

  “Water’s too shallow for a straight shot. We have to get out in the Gulf, turn west and circle around the end of Key West.” I switched on the radar, sonar, and both the VHF and UHF radios.

  The sky was a deep, cobalt blue after the morning’s rain. I turned north following the channel into the deep blue water of the Gulf of Mexico. The seas had flattened out and I pushed the throttles up to 1600 rpm, the knot meter showing our speed at 25 knots. Glancing back, I saw that Julie was moving out of my wake and coming alongside, about 30 yards off the port side. She throttled back, matching my speed.

  “Want to take her for a while?” I asked.

  “Jesse, I’ve never driven a power boat.”

  “You’re in the Navy and you’re never piloted a boat?”

  “Sailboat yeah. I wouldn’t have the first idea what to do, going this fast.”

  I stood up and moved to the port side bench. “Just like driving a car, except there’s no brakes.”

  She grabbed the wheel from the second seat and said, “Are you crazy? What if I hit someone? And what do you mean no brakes? How do you stop?”

  “Just slide over and take the helm. There’s nobody out here to hit.”

  She slid over and looked at me, “Hey, I’m driving! But how do I stop? You never told me that.”

  “If we need to stop, you just pull back on the throttles.”

  “How do I know which way to go?”

  “Just follow the sun.”

  “Seriously? That’s it?”

  I laughed and said, “For now, yeah. If you’re gonna earn your keep tomorrow, you gotta get your feet wet. It’s a big ocean, if you take us a mile or two further out into the Gulf it won’t make any difference. The sonar is set to alert us if we have water ahead that’s shallower than ten feet. If you hear it beeping, just turn right a little. I’ll be back in a minute, need to find my cell phone.”

  I went down to my stateroom and found it in a drawer, but the battery was dead. I took it and the charger back up to the bridge and plugged it in. I turned it on and pulled up the number for Lawrence Lovett, an Androsian friend and taxi driver in Key West. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hi Lawrence, this is Jesse,” I said. We talked for a minute and I asked him if he could meet us at the Boca Chica Field Marina in an hour. He promised he’d be there and I ended the call.

  “I’m sure you’ll want to go home and change before dinner,” I said to Jackie.

  “Oh? Are you asking me out on a second date?”

  “Actually, if you count today’s boat ride, it’ll be the third date,” I said with a grin.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “Well, since your car’s still in Marathon, I thought we could walk over to the Runway. When Lawrence drops you at your house, just tell him what time you’ll be ready and he’ll be there at exactly that time to bring you back to the marina. Where do you live anyway?”

  “I share a house in Old Town with one of the nurses. She works nights and I work days, so we rarely see one another.”

  Jackie piloted all the way to Northwest Channel, where I took over. Julie fell back and got in line behind us as I turned south into the channel and dropped the speed to 20 knots. Fifteen minutes later, we crossed the main ship channel, turned east at Whitehead Spit and I bumped the throttles back up to 25 knots. There were a few other boats on the water, but all the cruise ships were either docked or still far out to sea. Fifteen minutes later, we picked up the lights for Boca Chica Channel and turned northeast.

  I picked up the mic and said, “Coming down off of plane, Jules.”

  I waited until I heard her respond, “Roger, Jesse,” and slowly pulled back on the throttles. The big boat settled into the water and we idled into the marina. There was no fuel dock at the marina, but the Cazador had already been topped off and the tanks on the Revenge held more than enough for tomorrow’s trip. We idled into the turning basin and I maneuvered the Revenge to the center of the long dock, in clear view of the main building. Having only a single engine, Julie swung the Cazador in a sweeping turn and lightly kissed the dock fifteen feet astern of the Revenge. The Dockmaster and another man came out of the building and helped make both boats fast.

  “You must be Captain McDermitt,” the Dockmaster said.

  “Yes, I am,” I said. “The other boat is skippered by Captain Thurman. You were expecting us?”

  “Yes sir. The CO said you were picking up some VIP clients here in the morning, for a day of fishing. He also said not to ask who, so I won’t.”

  “Wouldn’t matter,” I lied. “You probably know more than I do who they might be. All we’ve been told was to pick them up here.”

  The man shrugged and left. I added two more lines to secure the boat to the dock and watched as Julie did the same. Jackie had disappeared into the salon to gather her things and stepped down to the dock just as Deuce and Julie walked up.

  “I need to call a cab,” Deuce said. “We’re going to stay at the Double Tree.”

  I glanced up the road from the dock and could see Lawrence’s black Crown Vic heading our way. “I already called one, Deuce. He can drop y’all on the way to take Jackie home.” Turning to Jackie I added, “Call me when you’re on the way.”

  I walked them out to where Lawrence was standing by the front of his cab. He hurried around the car before we got there and opened all the doors.

  “Be gud ta see yuh, gin, Cap’n,” he said with a big grin.

  I took his extended hand. “Good to see you again, Lawrence. These are my friends Jackie, Julie and Deuce. They’re going over to Key West and Jackie will need a ride back later.”

  “Be muh pleasuh, sar,” he said. He reached out and took Julies small bag and uniform bag, before she even realized it and carried them to the trunk. “Mistuh Deuce, yuh can ride up in di front, if ya want.”

  Before Lawrence got back behind the wheel, I slipped $30 in his hand. He got in the cab and they drove off, so I went back aboard the Revenge, opened the hanging locker by the salon hatch and took the uniform out that Julie had bro
ught. I carried it into the stateroom and tore the plastic off so I could inspect it myself.

  I hadn’t changed weight since I left the Corps, so I knew that the fit wouldn’t be a problem. I checked my shoes first, they looked like they could use a shine, but a quick buffing would do alright. I took the trousers off the clips holding them in place and checked all the seams for loose threads and found none. I took the hanger with the blouse and hung it on the drape rod over the hatch. I only found one loose thread on the left sleeve and snipped it off with a finger nail clipper.

  The six rows of ribbons were in the right order with the stars and oak leaf clusters for multiple awards in the right places and everything was correctly aligned. Shooting badges were also properly aligned as were the scuba badge and jump wings. The brass on the belt just needed a little buffing with a towel, as well as the eagle, globe and anchor on the cover. Over all, everything looked just like I’d left it nearly seven years ago.

  I carried the blouse and trousers into the stateroom and put them in the hanging closet, leaving the shoes, cover, and belt in the salon to touch up later. I grabbed a decent pair of jeans and a pale blue guayabera shirt and went into the head. Looking in the mirror, I suddenly realized I needed a haircut if I was going to wear the uniform.

  For five years after I left the Corps, I maintained a regulation haircut, but in the last two years, I’d let it go. I hadn’t had a haircut in several months and it was well past my ears.

  I pulled my phone out and called Jackie. “Do you know if the base barber shop is open on Saturday?”

  She started laughing, “I was beginning to wonder if you’d even notice. Don’t worry, I planned to bring my scissors and clippers on our date.”

  “You can cut hair? To Marine regulations?”

  “I cut my exes hair. Of course doing a crew cut might be a little more difficult than a Navy hairstyle.”

  “Thanks, Jackie,” I said. “See you soon.”

  After I disconnected, I stripped down and took a long hot shower and shave. Lately, I only shaved once every few days, sometimes as long as a week. I’d have to do it again in the morning, too.

  Once I was dressed, I grabbed a beer from the galley, set the alarm, locked the salon hatch and went up to the bridge, making sure to bring my phone. The sun was almost to the horizon and starting to turn the water in the marina a soft golden color. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  After I finished my beer, my phone chirped. Jackie said she was on her way back, but wanted to go somewhere off base. She said that Lawrence was happy to take us anywhere.

  Five minutes later, Lawrence pulled up, got out and opened the back door. When Jackie stepped out, as I was climbing up to the dock, the sight of her almost caused me to fall in the water. She was wearing a short black dress with thin straps and black high heel shoes. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and seemed to snatch the light right away from the setting sun.

  “Wow,” I said. “You look beautiful.”

  “This old thing,” she said. “Just a rag I pulled out of the closet. Do you like jazz?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and grinned. “Yeah, as a matter of fact.”

  “Great. There’s a place called Virgilio’s. You know it?”

  “I’ve heard of it before. Didn’t know they had music.”

  “Just recently the owner added a small stage and there’s a great little soft jazz band that’s been playing there for the last few weeks.”

  I held the door for her as she got in the car and said, “Sounds like a plan to me. Virgilio’s, Lawrence. With a stop at White Street Pier.”

  “White Street Pier?” Jackie asked as Lawrence pulled out of the parking lot.

  “So we can say goodnight to El Sol.”

  We crossed the bridge onto Stock Island then on across to Key West and turned south on Roosevelt. When we got to the pier, Lawrence pulled into the parking lot, got out and opened the door for us.

  I slipped him a twenty, asked him to wait and we walked out onto the pier. Most of the action at sunset was down at Mallory Docks, but there were a few people on the pier, several fishermen and three couples, dressed for the evening. Jackie took my arm as we walked out to the middle of the pier. The sun was just beginning to touch the far horizon and we leaned on the railing to watch.

  Slowly, the giant red orb slipped further and further into the water, flattening out as it did so. Jackie was standing upwind and I could smell the shampoo she used. It reminded me of night blooming jasmine, with just a hint of orange blossom. As the sun disappeared below the horizon, I was watching her reaction. As the last of it disappeared, her breath seemed to catch in her throat.

  “Beautiful,” she said.

  Looking at her profile, I said, “Absolutely.”

  She turned to me and said, “Flattery will get you anything, mister. But not until you feed me. I’m starved.”

  We walked back to the cab, got in and Lawrence pulled out of the lot, heading north on White Street. “How’s things been in town since I last saw you, Lawrence?”

  “Much bettah sar, now dat Santiago be gone. Whole heap a people heah owe you fer dat.”

  Jackie looked at me questioningly and I just shrugged. “You wouldn’t happen to know Jared Williams? He works at Blue Heaven?”

  “Ya sar, met him a time or two. Nice young mon, most di time. Got in a bit a trouble last week wit di police.”

  “Does he work Sunday night?”

  “Ya sar,” he said as he turned left onto Southard Street. “Works der ever night, cept Monday.”

  “What’d he get in trouble with the police about?”

  “Was lass Monday, his night off. Whut I heah, he bout tore up Hog’s Breath. Police let him go ness day. He jist been drinkin’ too much.”

  Lawrence crossed Duval Street and pulled over to the curb at the corner. He got out, moved quickly around to the passenger side and opened the door for Jackie. He even held her hand as she stepped out of the car. “Have a good evenin’ Mizz Jackie.” He nodded to me and said, “Have di manager call me when you ready to head back to di boat, Cap’n. He have my number.”

  “Thanks, Lawrence,” Jackie said.

  We walked around the corner and into the small restaurant. The hostess took us to a table in the back that had a good view of the small stage. The band really was very good and the food was excellent. After dinner we listened to the band for a while and had a couple of glasses of wine. At 2200 I suggested we’d better call it a night since we were going to have to get up well before sunrise. I asked the waitress if she could call Lawrence for me and she hurried off to do so.

  We finished our wine then walked outside to wait. Lawrence was just pulling up to the curb. I opened the door for Jackie and we got in the back seat of the big sedan.

  “We’ll drop you off at home, then Lawrence can take me back to the boat.”

  Jackie laughed and said, “Take us to di boat, mon!”

  As Lawrence pulled away from the curb, I said, “Are you forgetting something? You have to be in uniform at 0530.”

  “Her bags be in di trunk, Cap’n,” Lawrence said with a conspiratorial laugh.

  Jackie turned to me and smiled seductively, “Friends. With benefits.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Lawrence pulled into the marina. He opened the trunk and took out Jackie’s bags. Three of them. “Are you planning on a cruise?” I asked.

  “Never know,” was all she said.

  Before boarding, she was nice enough to take her heels off. I unlocked the hatch and disabled the alarm.

  “Where do you want to do it?” Jackie asked as she stepped up into the salon.

  My face must have registered my surprise. “The haircut, mister. I know where we’re going to make love.”

  Chapter 8: Gone Fishin’

  I woke to the smell of coffee coming from the galley, reached over and turned off the alarm before it started squawking. My watch showed 0357. I always set the coffee maker to brew ten minutes before the time
set on the alarm and it always wakes me before the squawking starts. Jackie was curled up next to me in the big bunk, snoring.

  I quietly got out of bed, put on a pair of shorts and went into the galley. I poured a cup of coffee and a moment later I heard the shower come on in the guest head so I held off pouring Jackie a cup. Since we only had an hour to get ready, I finished my coffee and went into the forward head and took a quick shave and shower myself.

  When I stepped out I noticed the door to the guest cabin was closed and light was coming from under the door. I could hear a blow dryer going so I went into the forward stateroom and got dressed. It’d been almost seven years since I wore the uniform, but it felt like a second skin, completely comfortable. I went back into the head and checked everything once more in the full length mirror. Jackie did a great job on the haircut. I had a few gray hairs around the temple, but cut in a high and tight, they were gone. I could easily pass for an active duty Marine, I thought.

  I walked in socked feet into the salon with a chrome polishing chamois and heard the blow dryer switch off as I walked past the guest cabin. It only took a couple of minutes to bring the brass on my belt back to a bright gleam. I wet a clean dish towel and worked on my shoes for another couple of minutes, until the shine came back.

  Now fully dressed, I poured another cup for me and one for Jackie. A moment later I heard the door to the guest cabin open and close then Jackie stepped up into the galley, in uniform also. Unfortunately, her wild mane of hair was pulled back and wrapped into a tight, though sizable bun. I snapped to attention and said, “Good morning, ma’am. Care for a cup of coffee?” She smiled and looked me over from head to toe, pausing for a moment at my ribbon rack and badges.

  “At ease, Marine,” she said. Then she took two quick steps into my arms and stretched up on her toes to lightly kiss me on the lips. “You look good enough to eat.”