I took a step back so I could see all the brothers clearly. I put a hand on either hip and nodded. “You can definitely tell that you’ve infused some money into things.”
Miguel, the second-oldest of the brothers, a wide man with a round face and huge muscular arms, nodded. “That’s why we asked you to come over, Drunk.”
I did my best to fight back any feelings about that. I’d been right. They’d called me over to rub my nose in my loss and their gain. But out of respect for Frankie as well as for them and what they’d done to help me save Al and my ex, I simply nodded. “Well, it all looks great. Really. You guys did a great job. I’m glad you were able to put the money to good use.”
Diego smiled at me. “Nah, Drunk. We didn’t call you over to just to show you the improvements.”
My brows knitted together as I frowned. “Okay? Then why am I here?”
Miguel glanced backwards at Solo, who gave him a little head nod as if to say, Go ahead, you tell him. “For starters, we replaced the boat that got blown to pieces.”
“And we bought two more,” added Diego. “Rico’s running his own charter now.”
I shot Rico a genuine smile. I knew that was something he’d been wanting. “Hey, good for you, Rico. That’s great.”
“We’ll be hiring another captain to handle the fourth one.”
“Wow. Four boats. You really do have a Cruz brothers fleet now.”
Miguel nodded. “Sure do.”
Beto gestured around. “Plus, as you noticed, there was enough left over to fix the marina up.”
I swallowed hard, nodding. “You really stretched the money, that’s for sure.”
“We couldn’t have done it without you, Drunk,” said Miguel.
“Yeah, we owe you a lot,” agreed Rico, nodding. “I wouldn’t be captaining my own boat if it wasn’t for you. Thanks, man.”
I glanced over at Al. “Well, my buddy Al might not be here if it wasn’t for you guys helping me out. And Pam, she’d probably be at the bottom of the Atlantic, you know? So, it’s all good.”
Al looked up at me and gave me a tight smile. I knew what he was thinking without him even saying it. He was saying, Good job, kid. Way to take one in the nuts.
Miguel nodded. “We know it was a team effort, but we don’t think it’s fair that we all came out so good and you didn’t. You did a noble thing saving your ex. Especially after she did you wrong. So, we’ve decided we want to cut you in on the business.”
My head tipped to the side. “Cut me in on the—”
“Yeah, man, we want you to be a silent partner in the Cruz Brothers Commercial Fishing and Charter Fleet business,” added Diego excitedly.
My jaw dropped. I wasn’t sure if I was hearing them correctly. I glanced over at Al. A smile had already spread across his face. Apparently I’d heard them correctly. They wanted to cut me in. “Are you serious, guys?”
“Dead serious,” said Diego, sporting a hundred-megawatt smile. “The Cruz brothers don’t joke around about money.”
Except for the low hum of the air conditioner, the whole room had gone silent. From where I stood, I could see boats docked out in the harbor and the sun reflecting off the smooth, glassy water. My mouth hung open. I was speechless.
Al smiled. “Wow, fellas. This is amazing. You did something even I can’t do. You got this guy to stop talking.”
Several of the Cruz brothers chuckled.
After an extended silence, I finally shook my head. “I’m in shock. I didn’t expect this at all. I’m just—fucking shocked,” I repeated with an ear-to-ear smile. “Thank you. I mean, I’ve got some great ideas. You know what we could do? We could—”
But Miguel held a hand up to stop me cold. “Drunk. We said a silent partner. That means we make all the decisions, but we cut you in on the profits. Comprende?”
I clamped my mouth shut. As the words silent partner sank in, I couldn’t help but nod. I clicked my cheek and shot Miguel a wink. “Yeah, I got it.”
“We figured we wouldn’t be where we were without you, so it was only fair that you get a part of the proceeds. We’ll send you a check quarterly. This is your first cut,” said Miguel, handing me a check. “It’s not much. We’ve mostly been working on getting our equipment up to speed. Next will be growing our clientele and focusing on advertising, so hopefully next check you’ll see a bump. Beto’s working on the paperwork for the deal. We’ll get it to you to sign next week sometime.”
I looked down at the check. It was for six hundred bucks. Hardly a return on such a handsome investment, but I didn’t care. It was a start, and I was ecstatic. “Guys, you know what this means, don’t you?”
“That you’re not broke after all?” asked Rico, his face covered in a smile.
I chuckled. “Well, yeah, that too.” I shook my head, smiling. “It also means that we’re tied together now. It’s like I’m a Cruz brother.”
From his desk, Solo rolled his eyes and let his head loll back on his shoulders. I knew he didn’t like the sound of that, but I didn’t care.
Diego and Rico laughed.
And then suddenly, Solo’s head lifted. “Well, I guess you being a Cruz brother isn’t all bad.”
I was shocked that he’d come around to my idea so quickly. “Yeah? You like that, huh?”
He shrugged. “Well, if you’re one of my brothers, that means you can’t date my sister, now doesn’t it?”
“Ohhhhh!” cried Diego, holding a fist in front of his mouth and laughing. “He gotcha there, Drunk.”
Shaking my head, I smiled and wagged my finger at him. “This is true. You got me there, Solo. Maybe I need to rethink if I really wanna be a Cruz brother after all.”
Al held up a finger then. “Drunk, if you really wanna be a Cruz brother, the right way to do it would be to marry their sister. Then you’d be their brother-in-law.”
Solo sat up and cleared his throat. He didn’t like the sound of that. “How about we just stick with silent partner for now, eh, Drunk?”
I chuckled, shooting Al a wink. “We’ll leave it at that for now, Solo. For now.”
12
I couldn’t stop smiling as Al and I drove away from the marina minutes later. I was a silent partner of a charter and commercial fishing business. And almost as good, Frankie’s brothers had voluntarily cut me in. That had to mean they liked me, even if it was just a little bit.
“You ever gonna lose that stupid smile on your face?” asked Al, grinning just as widely.
“Not today,” I said, rubbing my hand across my bearded jaw. “I went in there thinking they were rubbing my nose in everything I lost, and I walked out as a partial owner of the company. I’m still in shock, I think.”
Al’s head bobbed. “Good for you, kid. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Al.”
“But now we’ve got real business to take care of,” he said, focusing on the road in front of us. “We need to get back over to that club and see if we can’t find anyone that’s seen Jordan Lambert.”
I glanced down at the clock on my dash. That meeting hadn’t even taken a half hour. “They’re still not open. How about we grab lunch first?”
Al’s head bobbed. “Deal.”
* * *
I blame Al for taking us back to the same Mexican food place that had, not that long ago, served us the questionable taquitos. What is it they say about doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results? But, ultimately, it was Al who had to pay the price for our insanity. By the time we’d finished eating and pulled up to Club Cobalt, Al was already whining about his stomach.
“Well, now we know it wasn’t the taquitos,” I said. “Maybe it’s their food in general. Or maybe they imported some Mexican agua just to make the experience more authentic.”
“Could be,” said Al, nodding and rubbing his stomach.
I looked over at him. His brow had a glossy sheen and he looked miserable. “Hey, Al. I’m sorry you feel like shit—uh, no pun intended. I
told you we should’ve gone somewhere else.”
“I know. I know. It was my fault. I had a hankering for fish tacos.” He shook his head. “I love the food at the Seacoast Majestic, but their fish tacos leave a lot to be desired.”
“Alright, well, you can stay out here if you want,” I suggested, pulling my Jeep to a stop along the curb. “I’ll just go in and show Jordan’s picture around a little. I won’t be that long.”
But Al had already sprung into action and thrown his door open wide. “Nope, I gotta find the nearest john.”
I looked down the street in both directions. “I think this is the only place open down here.”
“It’ll have to do.”
“I thought you were worried about their john knocking you up?”
He slid out of the vehicle. “I’ll chance it.”
“Suit yourself,” I said with a shrug.
The inside of Club Cobalt was much like any seedy bar in the District. It was dark, even in the middle of the afternoon, so when you were inside, you couldn’t tell what time it was. The music played a little too loud, and even though they’d only unlocked their doors thirty minutes ago, there was already a half-naked girl dancing around on a pole onstage.
Al patted my arm and pointed towards a bathroom next to the stage and then shuffled off in its direction.
I removed my Ray-Bans and slid them around the band of my hat. When he’d gone, my eyes swept the room, looking for anyone that looked like they might be a regular. I walked up to the bar.
“What can I getcha?” asked the bartender, a white guy wearing a black V-neck t-shirt with rolled-up sleeves that revealed a tribal tattoo wrapped around his bicep.
“Mmm. I’ll take a whiskey sour,” I said, pulling out my wallet. As I waited for the bartender to make my drink, Al came shuffling over to me. “Well, that was fast.”
Al’s face was sweatier than it was when we’d come in. “John’s broken.”
“Way to go.”
“I didn’t break it. It was like that when we got here.”
“Sure it was.”
“Jeez, kid. I’m serious. We’re gonna have to leave if they don’t have another one.”
When the bartender returned, I leaned forward. “Your shitter’s busted. You got another one around here somewhere?”
“Nope.”
“C’mon, man. This guy’s in bad shape. He got ahold of some bad Mexican food.”
The bartender glanced over at Al. His eyes were as big as quarters and he was sweating and fidgeting back and forth. “’Round the corner.” He nodded towards a set of double doors. A guard stood in front of them. “Tell that guy. He’ll take you to the employee john in the back.”
Al didn’t even pause for niceties but instead took off on a mad shuffle towards the double doors.
I looked up and gave the bartender a friendly smile as I handed him the cash for the drink. “Keep the change.” Leaning backwards against the bar, I took my time sipping on my drink. The place was almost empty with the exception of the dancer, two guys sitting at darkly lit tables on opposite ends of the stage, a muscle-bound guy at the end of the bar, and a waitress. When I’d finished my drink, I put it on the bar.
The bartender, now drying a tumbler with a bar towel, walked back down to me. “Need another one?”
“Yeah, I’d take another one.” I pulled out the cash for the drink, making sure to tip him handsomely. Then I pulled out one of the photographs I’d snagged off Jordan’s mirror and showed it to the bartender. “Hey, you haven’t happened to see this girl around here lately, have you?”
The bartender’s hand stopped twisting inside the glass long enough to give me a once-over. Then for the briefest of seconds, his eyes dropped to look at the picture. “Nope. Haven’t seen her.” His eyes were on me again.
I frowned. “You sure? Maybe have another look?”
The bartender’s eyes dropped once more before pinging back up to stare at me. “She looks too young for this place.”
I nodded. “Well, that’s what I thought too, but I found this in her stuff.” I pulled the invitation out of my pocket and showed it to him. “Know anything about a private party that was here on Saturday?”
The bartender considered me for a second. “Just a sec.” He walked down to the end of the bar and said something to the muscle-bound guy.
That was when the waitress who had been across the room appeared next to me. She was young and blond with a tight little black dress on, carrying a drink tray. I noticed almost immediately the faded remnants of a black eye and a scar across her cheekbone.
I turned towards her and gave her my most charming smile. “Hey, gorgeous. Come here often?”
She grinned. “Only six days a week.”
I lifted the picture of Jordan up off the counter and showed it to the woman. “Well, then, hey—maybe you can help me. I’m trying to find my kid sister. Someone she knew thought she might’ve been in here not that long ago.” I showed her the picture of Jordan. “You seen her?”
The waitress froze as she stared at the picture. Then slowly, a hand rose to touch her hair. She cleared her throat. “No, huh-uh, haven’t seen her.”
“You sure?” I pressed.
“I said I haven’t seen her,” she muttered before glancing up at the bar.
I turned to follow her line of sight to see the bartender staring back at the two of us.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I frowned. “Leave? I haven’t even gotten my second drink yet.”
The bartender pushed my money back across the bar towards me. “You’ll have to get it somewhere else.”
“Bu—”
But before I could even complain, the guy at the end of the bar stood up and motioned with his head towards the guy guarding the double swinging doors that Al had gone through. They both got behind me, intentionally invading my personal space bubble. “Sir. We don’t allow customers to harass our waitresses,” grunted one of them.
“I wasn’t harassing her. I just wanted another drink,” I protested. I glanced over at the waitress. Her eyes were cast downwards. She couldn’t even look at me. And then the two guards had their hands under my elbows, and I felt the weight lessen on my legs and feet.
Within seconds, I was facedown on the pavement outside Club Cobalt. My palms and knees burned from the force of the fall, and my hat and sunglasses had fallen off my head and onto the concrete. I stood up, dusted myself off and put my hat back on, then leaned against my Jeep, waiting for Al. I could only hope he wouldn’t be met with the same forceful exit that I had.
It was another ten minutes before Al came hobbling out the door. He looked both ways down the street before he noticed me leaning against the vehicle. He shuffled towards me. “There you are. You couldn’t even wait for me?”
“They kicked me out. What took you so long?”
“You have to ask? I’m an old man. Things take a lot longer when you’re an old man.”
I opened his door for him. “Get in.”
As soon as we’d taken off, Al looked over at me. “Why’d they kick you out?”
“They said I was harassing the waitress, but I wasn’t. I just showed her Jordan’s picture and asked if she’d seen her.” I sighed and slumped back against my seat back. Something about that entire interaction didn’t sit right with me. “Who kicks someone out of their establishment just for showing around a picture?”
“Someone with something to hide,” said Al knowingly.
I nodded. “Exactly. I’m willing to bet Jordan went to that party and they knew she was underage. I bet that’s what’s going on. They could get in trouble for having underage girls at their club, and they didn’t like me asking questions about it.”
“You might be right. I’m pretty sure Jordan isn’t the first underage girl that they’ve ever had in their club,” said Al.
I looked over at him. “Oh yeah? What makes you say that?”
“The walls down the hall
ways in the back were lined with framed pictures of really young girls in skimpy lingerie.”
“You’re kidding. How young?”
“Too young,” said Al knowingly. “Teenagers—fifteen-, sixteen-year-old girls.”
“You’re kidding?”
Al shook his head. “I wish I was. They weren’t all recent pictures.”
“Yeah? And how in the world would you know that?”
“I recognized one of the girls in the pictures. She’s older now.”
I looked over at him in surprise. “Al! Is that what took you so long?”
“I wasn’t trying to look at them. It was right across from the john when I came out.”
“So who is she?”
“She’s a realtor on the island.”
“You know her name?”
“Monica Arndt. She works for Vista Realty. She showed Evie and me a couple condos last year when we were debating whether we should get our own place or live at the resort.”
I lifted a brow. “You sure that’s all? You seem to know a lot about this half-naked girl. Anything else you feel you need to share, Al?”
Al shot me the stink-eye. “Yeah, the woman’s face is plastered all over half the billboards on the island. Tell me you haven’t seen the name Monica Arndt before.”
I was silent as I drove. I didn’t pay a lot of attention to billboards, but I did seem to have a recollection of a dark-haired young woman with a nice smile photographed in front of a house for sale. I wasn’t sure what man on the island hadn’t noticed her face before. She was an attractive woman, but young. Maybe barely twenty-five. “Yeah, alright. I think I know the one.”
Al pointed at the road. “If you wanna go up to the corner and take a right, I think there’s a billboard at an intersection down there. We’ll take a look.”
I followed Al’s directions, and within a few minutes, we were parked on the side of the road, staring up at a pair of ten-by-twenty-two-foot billboards. One of them had bright blue and pink lettering splashed across a colorfully painted helicopter and read “Hidden Beaches Aerial Tours, Paradise Isle’s only Doors-Off Adventure Tour.” The second billboard featured a woman with her arms crossed, standing in front of a house for sale, just as I’d remembered.
Drunk Driving Page 7
