Joe groaned. “I’m going to have to start taking a closer look at the ingredients in my fish sticks.”
“Tons more are killed for sport, or just out of plain fear, including many species that are totally harmless,” Cap continued. “And the sharks that are left have to survive in water clogged with our plastic trash while facing trauma from changes in temperature and acidity thanks to global warming.”
A councilman in a bow tie to Boothby’s left nodded somberly. “These are all issues the town council could be helping to change instead of stoking people’s fears. That’s what Trip would want.”
Cap put his hand to his heart. “Dr. Edwards knew better than anyone that the oceans are in trouble, and sharks are some of the biggest victims.”
A lot of people nodded along and murmured their agreement. Just as many didn’t, though.
“Councilwoman Edwards was the victim yesterday!” the elderly councilman shouted.
“Of course we’re afraid!” yelled a man from the crowd.
“I get that people are scared, but what happened to Trip was one-in-a-million bad luck,” Cap said sadly. “She’d be the first one to tell you that sharks are worth a lot more to our community alive. And not just because of their environmental value. Protecting them is good for our economy. Ecotourism has become big business. No other creature on earth captures people’s imaginations like sharks do, and people spend tons of money traveling all over the world to dive with sharks and even to go on conservation expeditions.”
“I see how all the youngsters go to Scuba-Doo and the other dive outfits so they can get the shark selfies to put on their Graham Crackergram and Snapplechats and whatnots,” Dougie offered, looking at the back row, where the scraggly scuba instructor we’d seen at Chuck’s was chewing intently on his fingernails. “Ain’t that right, Shaggy?”
“Disrespecting sharks is bad karma,” Shaggy sort-of answered in a mumble, slipping down in his seat. He didn’t seem like the type of guy who liked to have the spotlight on him.
“They’re good for folks like me in the local charter business too,” Dougie added. “There’s no sports fishing without sporty fish.”
Cap nodded. “Trip always said that sharks are a renewable financial resource—so long as you protect them. And that’s without even going into all the data she had on the long-term global economic impact of declining fishery populations and how maintaining a healthy ocean ecosystem benefits all of us.”
“Captain, what benefits us most right now is not getting eaten by sharks!” the mayor shot back.
Joe leaned over. “Wow, this dude is a pro at ignoring facts and redirecting the conversation where he wants.”
“He’s not even trying to address anyone’s concerns except the ones he already agrees with,” I replied.
“The only thing I care about is keeping my citizens safe!” Boothby persisted emphatically.
“You don’t care about protecting us,” Cap thundered back. “You’re preying on people’s fears to justify doing something irrational and politically self-serving.”
Chuck stood up with her hands on her hips. “Mayor, you know I love you like a misguided older brother, but anyone with their eyes open can see you’re trying to distract us from all your scandals and trying to get folks to keep voting for you.”
“My eyes are closed with the truth!” Ron declared, stabbing the air with his finger.
“What does that even mean, Ron?” Chuck asked, exasperated.
“The only scandal here is what’s happening on our beaches,” Boothby insisted. “I’m authorizing the release of Lookout Key’s emergency fund to build an underwater shark wall—”
There was a collective gasp. Even the people who supported the mayor seemed stunned by the announcement, including his fellow council members.
“And,” Boothby continued, “to pay a bounty for every shark caught by a citizen of Lookout Key!”
The murmurs grew even louder. Half the room seemed appalled, and the other half elated. Cap was literally speechless; well, unless you count turning bright red as speech. On the other side of the room, Diamond was pumping his tattooed fist in the air.
“Cha-ching!” he shouted.
“The town is suddenly flush with money for this, but you couldn’t afford to fix up a historical landmark like Alligator Lighthouse?” Chuck demanded.
“And we still need new textbooks for the high school. Where’s the money for that?” the councilman in the bow tie snapped.
“You can’t just release funds without consulting us! That kind of expenditure will blow up the budget!” a second council member protested.
“Lives are at stake, ladies and gentlemen,” Mayor Boothby insisted. “We need to take action, and we need to take it now!”
Cap’s face had, if possible, gone even redder. I started to feel myself turning red as well. Joe and I had come to Lookout Key to study and help protect sharks. As shaken as I still was by the shark-chomped paddleboard I’d seen that morning, an indiscriminate cull of every shark in the area didn’t make any sense. If Joe and I approached detecting that way, well…
“Trying to get rid of every shark because of one isolated attack would be like arresting every single person with freckles just because one freckled person committed a crime,” I called, standing up so I could be heard. “It would be unjust!”
“Killing sharks willy-nilly isn’t even legal,” the councilman with the bow tie said. “Every self-respecting fisher-person knows there are limits on how many sharks you can catch, and which kinds.”
“It ain’t just what’s good for the fish, either,” Dougie chimed in. “Like Cap said, it’s good for business, too. I bet half the people in this room rely on sea life to make a living one way or another. What tourist is gonna pay to come here to catch or take a picture of a thing that don’t exist no more?”
There were rumbles of approval. Maybe the town hall tide was turning. “Removing catch restrictions isn’t the only thing that’s illegal,” I added. “Unscientific gimmicks like underwater nets and barriers like the one you’re proposing aren’t just against the law in a lot of places—there’s no proof they work. Mostly they just waste money, disrupt delicate ecosystems, and kill innocent sea life. And not just sharks. Sea turtles and dolphins, too.”
“That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Boothby replied. “I’m evoking my mayoral authority to keep the citizens of Lookout Key safe. My anti-shark initiative goes into effect immediately.”
“You’re not even going to vote on this?” Chuck asked in disbelief.
“We don’t need a vote. I’m the mayor!”
The curly-haired councilwoman seated to Boothby’s left tugged on his sleeve. “Um, actually, Mayor, we kind of do. It’s in the town bylaws.”
“It’s decided, then!” Boothby concluded. If he felt the councilwoman yanking on his arm, he didn’t show any sign of it. “My anti-shark initiative begins tomorrow. Happy hunting!” With that, Mayor Boothby banged his gavel on the table and marched victoriously off the dais.
Joe and I turned to face each other, dismayed.
“I think this case just turned from one mission into two,” Joe said. “To try to find Trip—”
I finished the thought for him. “And protect the sharks that are accused of eating her.”
6 NO GUTS, NO GLORY
JOE
I DON’T KNOW IF WE JUST witnessed a town council meeting or a circus!” I told Frank as we stood outside town hall, watching the crowd leave.
“All I know is Ringleader Boothby just made our case a lot harder.”
My bro and I had worked a lot of big cases, and this wasn’t the first time we’d seen normal people do some pretty goofy things during a crisis. Sometimes when people are scared, they make head-scratching decisions because they want to feel like something’s being done, even when what they do winds up hurting them or their town in the long run—like trying to get rid of all of Lookout’s sharks. That didn’t make all the anti-shark
supporters bad guys. It’s hard to be patient and listen to reason when you’re afraid. It just stinks when unscrupulous bigwigs like Mayor Boothby take advantage of the fear instead of trying to find solutions that actually help.
“Guys like Boothby can be a lot more dangerous than any shark, if you ask me,” I said.
“Speaking of big fish”—Frank pointed to Maxwell shaking hands and hobnobbing as he strolled out of the town hall toward us—“seems strange that one was so quiet. You’d think he’d be more worked up about the development vote getting postponed.”
“Why don’t we ask him about it?” I suggested, stepping up to cut him off before he could pass by.
“Hi, Mr. Maxwell!” I said, extending my hand. “Got a minute to chat?”
He didn’t hesitate to take my hand, but the handshake was accompanied by a confused look. It only lasted for a second, though, before his features shifted into a cheery smile. “Ah, yes. The young detectives from up north! I’d been hoping to make your acquaintance. How are you enjoying your stay in the Conch Republic?”
“You know who we are?” Frank asked, eyeing Maxwell suspiciously.
“Oh, indeed. This is a small island, and it’s good business to know what’s going on. You’re not the only ones with an eye on things.” He tapped the side of his perfectly styled head.
“Speaking of things that are good for business, that meeting could have gone a lot better for you if the vote went ahead as planned,” I said.
Maxwell gave an unconcerned shrug. “You win some, you lose some. And sometimes, you can win one and still lose. I want the support of the community. If we’d won that vote without Dr. Edwards there on the same day we found out she was attacked, I’d permanently lose the respect of half the people on Lookout Key. I live here too, and Mangrove Palace isn’t the only project I have in the works. It doesn’t do me any good to come off looking like an opportunistic vulture.”
“So the delay is more good business,” Frank said pointedly.
If Maxwell was thrown by Frank’s accusatory tone, he didn’t show it. This guy was smooth sailing all the way.
“It was the right thing to do, and it’s good business. Like your friend Cap suggested when he argued against the mayor’s ludicrous shark proposal: doing well and doing good don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Flaunting my victory during a tragedy would be a rotten way to show my love for the community. And I’m not just talking about public appearances. I like to be able to look myself in the mirror as much as the next guy. The notion may be foreign to our dear mayor, but a thing can be both proper and profitable.”
My eyebrows went up. “I’d think you’d be on board the mayor’s anti-shark boat, seeing as it’s sharks swimming in the way of your resort.”
“That boat is not a particularly seaworthy ship, if you catch my drift.” Maxwell grinned. “I find Boothby useful at times, but following his lead can leave a stink on you if you’re not careful. The mayor likes to fall back on stunt shows and scare tactics like that shark wall nonsense because he doesn’t have anything of substance to offer voters once they look past the smoke screen. I prefer to win people over with reason.”
Mr. Reason was sounding a lot more reasonable than I’d expected, and I couldn’t help wondering what his whole “I’ve got nothing to hide” act might be covering up.
“Besides, it’s not the sharks’ fault,” he continued with a laugh. “I don’t have anything against sharks or Dr. Edwards, for that matter. Our priorities may not be the same, but I do respect her and the work she does, even if we don’t see eye to eye on the subject of my latest project.”
Frank and I couldn’t help exchanging a look. Was this guy saying all the right things because he actually meant them, or was this all a show to win us over?
“It’s true,” he insisted. “In fact, I’ve donated a healthy sum of money to Shark Lab over the years. I made another contribution just this morning to help fund Captain Rogers’s search-and-rescue effort. I know the R/V isn’t cheap to run. It would be a shame to have to divert the lab’s resources away from its research.” He smiled. “Even if some of it may be used to hold up my development.”
Maxwell clapped us both on the shoulder. “I truly do hope you boys are successful in your investigation to find Dr. Edwards. If I can be of any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Go figure.” I turned back to Frank as Maxwell sauntered away. “I wasn’t expecting him to be a supporter of our Anti-Anti-Shark Counter-Initiative.”
“The whole town has their boat rocked over this thing, and he’s leisure cruising right through the center of the storm.” Frank sounded impressed. “No wonder that guy’s so successful. He’s a pro at laying on the charm.”
“Including on us?” I asked, wondering how much we could actually trust what Maxwell had just told us. “I’m still on Team Lemon Shark when it comes to his development plans messing with the baby shark nursery, but I can’t help it. I kinda like the dude.”
* * *
We started our third day on Lookout standing on the marina dock, watching the sun rise while we waited for Cap to show up for the day’s search.
“Two hours late. I hope he’s okay,” Frank said, looking at his watch.
Cap stumbled toward us a few minutes later, looking bleary-eyed.
“You can blame the mayor,” he said before we could ask him what had happened. “I was getting threatening calls all night from one of his anti-shark supporters. I barely slept.”
“Do you know who it was?” I asked, shifting instantly into investigation mode.
Cap shook his head. “Whoever it was just kept playing the theme song from Jaws over and over.”
“Could it have been Diamond?” Frank asked. “Tormenting you with a movie about hunting man-eating sharks seems about his style.”
Cap growled, walking past us toward the small motorboat we’d be taking out to where the R/V was anchored. “Don’t even say his name. Besides, he wouldn’t have wasted the sleep. He’s probably already been on the water for hours trying to collect on the mayor’s bounty.”
He yawned, then let out a disgusted grunt. “We’ve got a lot of time to make up. I’m going to have the crew pulling double duty looking for Trip and patrolling for shark poachers. As soon as the council meeting let out, I was on the phone with the Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission to tell them about the mayor’s illegal shark hunt. They’ll have extra boats out to crack down on anyone we catch.”
We were still a few feet from the boat when it hit me.…
I gagged. “What is that smell?”
“Is that coming from our boat?” Frank asked, pulling his T-shirt over his face.
Cap ran ahead and then stopped suddenly. We ran up to join him, and my eyes went wide as I took in the scene.
The inside of the motorboat was filled with rotting chum!
The smell wasn’t the worst part, though. In the middle of all the bloody fish guts, someone had scrawled:
SHARK BAIT, GO HOME
7 RARE FISH
FRANK
IT WAS A SHORT BUT very stinky boat ride out to the R/V.
As soon as we got on board, Kat alerted Cap that they were tracking a number of suspicious fishing boats on the Sally’s radar. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that most of them were out hunting sharks, hoping to cash in on the mayor’s bounty—or that Cap and his crew wouldn’t be very popular trying to stand in their way. It seemed likely that one or more of the mercenaries were responsible for the prank calls and fish guts, just probably not Diamond. Cap had been right about his rival being laser-focused on fishing—radio chatter from the other boats confirmed that the shark hunter had been the first one spotted heading out that morning.
As the newest “members” of the Sally’s crew, Joe and I were given the not-so-awesome job of washing the chum out of the motorboat, which had been lifted onto the deck by one of the R/V’s cranes.
“Time to earn your keep, greenhorns.”
Kat smiled slyly on her way below deck. “Greenhorn” was the not-entirely-affectionate term for a crew’s newbie.
“Give them a break, Kat,” Cap called after her as we got to work with our buckets and sponges. “There’s no such thing as an unimportant job on a vessel like this. Besides, having the greenhorns clean up fish guts is a time-honored tradition.”
“Oh, I feel honored all right,” Joe grumbled, giving the stink eye to the red goop dripping off his sponge.
Cap grinned. It was the first smile I’d seen on his face in a while.
Since it seemed like he was in a decent mood, I figured this might be a good chance to multitask and gather more intel on the local anti-shark population while we cleaned. “It seems pretty generous of Maxwell to donate money to the search effort, even when Trip stands in the way of his development.”
The initial surprise on Cap’s face melted away. “Figures he’s already gotten around to smooth-talking you. Boothby may hold the official title, but the real mayor of this town is that eel. Never misses an opportunity to campaign for his real estate deals. He’s tried to butter up every member of my crew at some point, thinking he can infiltrate the ranks and change our minds.”
“He’s pretty buttery,” Joe confirmed, looking up from the patch of gunk he’d been scrubbing.
“Maxwell made it sound like he’s been a big donor for a while,” I said.
“Research isn’t cheap, and Maxwell’s development projects never posed a problem in the past. We got our last check in the mail the same day he announced plans for Mangrove Palace. It was way more than he’d ever given us, and would have paid for a lot of research,” Cap said wistfully. “We realized why once we read the plan’s fine print. That kind of payoff may work for the mayor, but not Shark Lab. Trip sent it back that day with a note suggesting he invest his money in finding a new resort location, because she was going to make sure this one never got approved.”
A Treacherous Tide Page 4
