Steady As She Goes: A Jesse McDermitt Novel (Caribbean Adventure Series Book 21)

by Wayne Stinnett

  “Will there be anything else?” the waiter asked.

  I handed him my AmEx Black card and told him we’d be moving out to the patio to listen to the music.

  He offered my card back. “I’ll take your bill out to the bartender and you can enjoy yourselves out there.”

  A good idea on his part, I thought. In most cases, more booze meant more tip.

  When I led the way out to the patio, the dance music hit me, full force. Several couples were gyrating in front of the stage, where a band was playing. It seemed to be a cross between Bahamian junkaroo band, playing Jamaican jump up with an American techno-music feel.

  As we passed the bar, I noticed the eyes of more than one man following the girls. One man got his arm punched by his wife or girlfriend for looking too long.

  I led the way to a table against the wall, which was two tables away from the stage. As usual, I took the chair nearest the wall.

  A waitress appeared and took our drink orders. She was back before we’d fully settled into place.

  “Thank you for the dinner,” Crystal said. “The lobster was delicious.”

  “You’re very welcome,” I replied, noticing that of the two of them, Crystal, although she was younger, seemed to be the one in charge.

  I wondered if she was the same with their oldest sibling, Giselle.

  “I want to dance,” Crystal said. “The band is very good.”

  “Then let’s cut a rug,” Axel said.

  “Cut the rug?”

  “That’s what Cajuns call dancing,” Ross explained.

  “I’m from Mississippi,” Axel said, standing, and offering a hand to Crystal. “Not Louisiana.”

  “And where are you from, Ross?” Kassandra asked.

  “Where the corn grows tall and the cattle are fat,” he replied. “The great state of Oklahoma.”

  “Do they cut rugs in Oklahoma?”

  Ross smiled and took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor. I noticed that both sisters had left their shoes under the table.

  Sitting back in my chair, I let my eyes drift around the patio and bar area, stopping for a moment at each face I could see. It wasn’t packed, but it was a good-sized crowd. Men outnumbered women almost two to one, which was typical for a bar near a marina, even if it was a high-end marina.

  Two of the men I’d noticed earlier staring at the sisters were in a deep conversation, both taking occasional glances toward the girls on the dance floor. One looked like a surfer type, blond hair to his shoulders, clean shaven, with a square jaw. His friend was a black man, muscular, with a shaved head. Both looked to be in their prime, no more than twenty-five, and were dressed nicely. But they had a predatory look about them.

  After two songs, the others returned to the table, out of breath and laughing. I couldn’t help but notice a sheen of perspiration on Kassandra’s ample cleavage. Crystal, on the other hand, barely showed any sign of exertion. My guess was she was the more athletic of the two.

  We ordered more drinks and talked for a moment, then the band started a song with a sultry island beat. Crystal grabbed Axel’s hand and the two were off again.

  “My sister can dance all night,” Kassandra said to Ross, as if apologizing. “I have to take a break to catch my breath.”

  “Same here,” Ross said with a smile.

  The black man from the bar moved toward the dance floor and I saw the surfer headed our way. I shifted my chair around slightly, making it easier to get to my feet if need be.

  “Would you like to dance?” the surfer asked Kassandra, totally ignoring me and Ross.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, no.”

  “Aw, come on,” he said. “Just one dance. That’s not going to hurt anyone.”

  Ross rose slowly to his feet. “The lady said no. So, why don’t you just go on back to the bar? We don’t want any trouble.”

  The two men were matched in height, but the surfer looked like he probably had a few pounds on Ross, mostly in his bulging upper arms. In grappling, he would have a slight advantage. But I’d read each crewman’s bio and knew that Ross could hold his own if he had to.

  Still, I shifted my chair again.

  “I wasn’t asking you, man,” Surfer said. “I was talking to Red here.”

  “Don’t be rude, son,” I said, just loud enough for him to hear me, but not so loud as to make a scene.

  He looked over at me and grinned. “And I’m definitely not talking to you, Pops.”

  I rose slowly. At six-three, I’m usually the tallest person in a room. I often used that to my advantage. Surfer had to look up a couple of inches to meet my gaze, putting him in a subordinate position from the start. Especially since there were two of us.

  “I’m not your pop,” I said, low and menacing, as I took a step toward him. “If I were, you’d have been raised to be more respectful to women and your elders.”

  “Whoa,” he said, raising both hands in supplication. “I don’t want a fight. Not when it’s two against one.”

  He started to turn, but I knew from experience that he wasn’t quite finished yet. The empty shot glasses on the bar where he’d been sitting with his buddy pointed to the fact that he’d loaded up on liquid courage before coming over.

  When he suddenly stopped and started to spin back toward me, I was not only ready for him, but anticipating the move. His wild attack was poorly timed; I caught his fist in my left hand, stopping the punch in full swing, with my fingers wrapped solidly around his knuckles. My hands are bigger than most, and I’d spent a lifetime using them, making them stronger, harder. I could see that my block surprised him, and when I applied pressure to a nerve in the back of his hand, I knew I had his full attention.

  “Strike two,” I growled. “You need to take a long, hard look at your next move, boy. You’re not the first and I didn’t get old by rolling over.”

  There was a scream. I looked over and saw Surfer’s buddy grabbing at Crystal. I released my grip and held my hands out wide, moving closer. Before Surfer could take another swing, I headbutted him in the face, sending him sprawling on his butt. The shape of the forehead makes it able to withstand a powerful blow. Not so much for the nose and facial bones.

  “Watch him!” I ordered Ross, then headed for the dance floor.

  The crowd had separated, and the band had stopped playing. Crystal stood a few feet behind Axel, who was in a fighting stance as the bald black man stalked around them.

  A deep rage rose within me when I saw that Crystal’s pretty, white dress was torn at the high part of the hem, exposing her hip and the side of her panties.

  Baldy had his back to me, so I simply tapped him on the shoulder.

  “I’m cutting in,” I announced loudly.

  He whirled to face me, ready for a fight.

  I wasn’t in the mood.

  The fight started and ended with a single right jab, which landed squarely on the man’s nose. He was unconscious before he hit the deck.

  “You and Ross take the girls outside,” I said to Axel.

  As they hurried toward the table, stepping around the inert surfer guy, I went to the bar. The patrons made an opening large enough for a truck as I fished my card from my pocket and handed it to the bartender.

  “Please close out my tab,” I said softly, as the pounding rage in my temples started to subside a little. I glanced at the two men sprawled on the deck. “Add theirs to mine also. Plus, three hundred East Caribbean dollars for any damages.”

  The bartender looked around, noting the two men, unconscious and bleeding on the deck. “I don’t see any damages, Captain.”

  “Then call it a tip,” I said with a wink. “For the trouble.”

  “A headbutt?” Ross asked, as we hurried along the dock. “Why in the world would you want to get that close?”

  I needlessly looked back over my shoulder before answering him. “It just seemed like the thing to do at the time.”r />
  “Are we in any trouble?” Crystal asked, trying to hold the hem of her dress together.

  “No,” I replied. “Those two won’t be waking up any time soon. And I paid the bartender for any damages.”

  “I could have taken him,” Axel said.

  Looking over at him, I nodded. “No doubt in my mind, Axel. I’ve read both of your bios. But as captain, I’m responsible.”

  He grinned. “I don’t think I could have taken him with one punch, though. You’re definitely not another Captain Hansen.”

  “Are you okay, Crystal?” I turned to her with concern. “He must have frightened you.”

  She brushed away my worry with a wave of her hand. “I wasn’t frightened. I can handle myself. The only thing suffering here is my dress.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to explaining to Mayra about what had happened. In hindsight, I probably should have chosen a different place.

  Although the marina and restaurant were trendy and catered to the mega-yacht crowd, it was still a marina, a stopping place for boats of all types—boats predominantly crewed by young men. And when a boat arrived in port after a lengthy time at sea, it meant a bunch of horny crewmen going ashore and heading to the nearest watering hole, tipping the balance in the male to female ratio. An unlevel balance created competition. It’s as true today as it was in the 1600s.

  “Your orders?” Axel asked, as we reached Ambrosia.

  The women made their way across the work deck and were talking by the fishing tackle station.

  I looked at the two men. “None,” I said, slowly releasing a breath. “You’re off duty still and I’m tired and going to bed.” I paused and glanced over at the sisters. “But may I suggest a nightcap on the foredeck?”

  Ross looked over to where Kassandra was kneeling, trying to do something with her sister’s dress. Then he looked back at me. “Where’d you learn to fight?” he asked.

  “I was a Marine infantryman for twenty years,” I replied. “And I picked up a few things in Israel.”

  “Israel?” Axel asked. “Krav Maga?”

  I nodded as the women started back toward us.

  “All fixed,” Kassandra said, taking her sister’s hand and twirling her around.

  I looked down and stifled a laugh. “I hope you cut the barbs off.”

  Axel bent and looked closer. Kassandra had used several fishhooks and a lure to pull the torn hem back into place. The lure was a simple spoon with the treble hook removed. It covered the thin line of her panties completely and was held in place by small fishhooks bent to form loops and hooked through the separated parts of the hem.

  Axel looked at Crystal and smiled. “Very fashionable.”

  “I’m sure it will be all the rage this fall,” Crystal said, with a modest curtsy.

  “Would you like to have a drink on the foredeck?” Ross asked Kassandra. “It’s a beautiful night.”

  She nodded and they started up the steps.

  “Go ahead with them,” Crystal said to Axel. “I will join you in a minute. I want to speak to the captain.”

  When we were alone, she turned and looked up at me. “I want to thank you again for a wonderful evening.”

  “Are you always so proper, Crystal?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have three daughters,” I said. “The middle one, Kim, is twelve years older than Flo, who you met. But sometimes, she acts just as goofy and excited as a teenager. Aboard Ambrosia, I’m the captain. But off the ship, like tonight, I’m just an old guy you work with.”

  She smiled, then glanced forward to where Axel was waiting by the starboard side deck. When she turned back to face me, she stepped up on her toes and kissed my cheek.

  “Thanks, Jesse,” she whispered, then gave me a heart-warming smile. “Tonight was a lot of fun. But I want to ask you a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Please don’t say anything to my mother and father about what happened with those two men at the bar.”

  “I can’t lie to her,” I said. “If she asks how the dress got torn.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” she said. “Thanks again.”

  She turned and hurried to catch up with Axel.

  I shook my head as I headed up the port side. “Oh, yeah,” I muttered to myself. “Take two young couples ashore in a harbor town. Have a drink or two in a wharf bar. What could possibly go wrong?”

  When I reached the bridge, I found Travis there, drinking coffee with Walt Meachum and Duster. The closed circuit was on, with angles displayed on the three monitors, showing the dock area all around Ambrosia.

  Stockwell glanced over at me as I entered. “You have a drop of blood on your collar, Captain. Yours?”

  “Probably not,” I replied. “There was a little skirmish at the bar.”

  He took a mug from the cupboard and filled it, then handed it to me.

  “Thanks.”

  “Let me guess,” he said. “Those two young women attracted the wrong kind of attention. Pretty much like I warned you they would.”

  “Yeah,” I said, then nodded toward Walt and Duster, sitting in the helm seats. “But you actually warned me they’d be a distraction to these two knuckle-draggers.”

  Duster grinned. “Hey, I resemble that remark.”

  “You’re a wise man, Colonel,” I said. “I failed to extend that caution.”

  “Anyone hurt badly?”

  “Just a couple of college boys,” I said. “Once they come to, it’ll be their pride that hurts the most.”

  He huffed. “I remember an old man whupping my ass in Germany during my first enlistment. Caught me with his daughter.”

  “Not an easy pill for a young man to swallow,” I said with a nod.

  “Get a tub of water and some soap, Duster,” Travis ordered. “And some antibacterial ointment from the first aid kit.” He turned to me and pointed to the chair. “Sit down. One of those college boys busted your knuckles all up with his pretty face.”

  “I don’t need a nurse,” I said, looking at the back of my right hand.

  “Who’s nursing?” Duster said, putting a small tub on the deck in front of me. “There’s bacteria in a person’s mouth that can cause severe necrotizing soft tissue infection. If that shit’s not cleaned out good, it could kill a man in hours.”

  I bent and washed my hands. “I punched him in the nose.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s still a tooth mark on your right ring finger.”

  I looked at the wound. It was small—less than half an inch—nearly flat on one side and concave on the other.

  “Central incisor,” Duster said, handing me a tube.

  I squeezed a small drop into the wound and moved it around with my finger, working it in.

  “You sound like a doctor,” I said, putting the lid back on and handing it to him.

  “Finished med school and was about to go into residency when the Colonel came to visit me.”

  I looked up at the young man. “You gave up being a doctor to go back to being a door kicker?”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say ‘gave up.’ It was more like postponed.”

  “What made you want to do that?”

  Duster was quick to answer. “To make a real difference without bullshit politics.” Then he glanced over at Meachum. “Plus, the colonel said Walt was in and I figured he’d need to be looked after.”

  “You keep thinking that, kid,” Walt said, lifting his mug in a toast.

  “Think there’ll be any blowback?” Travis asked.

  “Not likely,” I said. “They were a bit hammered. Once they sleep it off, they’ll move on. Uglier for a while, but I don’t think they’ll come sniffing around Ambrosia. I only wanted to alert you before I went to bed in case they didn’t learn from their mistake.”

  Stockwell glanced at his two operatives and nodded. “I’ll post an extra man in the cockpit, just in case.”

 
; Duster refilled his mug and left without another word.

  “Were the girls shaken up?” Travis asked in a low voice, as we moved toward the passageway hatch.

  “I don’t think so,” I replied. “The younger one’s as cool as a cucumber. Her father said she’s an expert in juego del garrote.”

  “Venezuelan stick fighting? That little thing?”

  “It’s not the size of the warrior in the fight,” I said.

  He nodded and pushed the hatch open. “You’re right, Jesse. It’s the size of the fight in the warrior. Have a good night.”

  I handed him my empty mug. “Thanks, Colonel. You do the same.”

  When I got to my quarters, Mayra and Marcos were at the dinette, playing a card game. The dogs, lying in front of Alberto’s room, lifted their heads. Soft Latin music played from the radio.

  “Good evening, Capitan,” Mayra said, laying her cards down. “We didn’t expect you back so early.”

  “The boys asleep?”

  “Probably,” she replied. “They went to Alberto’s room more than an hour ago. Even the dogs slept.”

  “What’s that you’re playing?” I asked, looking at the cards on the table. They weren’t American playing cards, but somewhat similar. There were two cards faceup; one had five cups and the other six swords.

  “It is called truco,” Marcos replied. “And she always beats me.”

  I glanced over at the sofa and table, noting the chess set was gone.

  “Did David come by to finish his chess game with Alberto?”

  Marcos grinned. “Si, Capitan. It did not last long. When they sat down, it was over in two moves. David seemed”—he glanced at his wife— “sorprendida?”

  I grinned. “A surprise to him, but Alberto had him all set up.”

  “They played another game, which ended in a draw,” Marcos said.

  “Where are my daughters?” Mayra asked.

  “I believe they went forward to look at the stars and say goodnight to Ross and Axel.”

  “It was nice of you to treat them,” Marcos said. “They do not have much chance for fun.”

  “The dinner was great, and their company excellent.”