Key Lime Blues (15 page)

There was another short pause. “I’ll return your money if you do this.”

I wasn’t much in the mood to bargain for money that was mine to begin with. I was willing to bet I’d never see the money unless I cooperated with her, and even then I had my doubts. Considering my limited options I asked, “You still have the money?”

“Most of it.”

“What do you consider to be most of it?”

“Seventeen hundred dollars,” she said.

“You spent eight hundred dollars of my money in a day?”

“If you don’t lower your voice when you’re talking to me you’ll never see the rest of your money,” she said. “I had to eat. I needed some clothes. You’re the one who told me not to go home. Now deal or no deal?”

The itch in the center of my back that was making me feel like a target was getting worse. I was afraid if I said no, not only would I be out the seventeen-hundred dollars, but I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for Frankie and Bob.

“All right,” I said, with some reluctance. “I’m still at Alvin’s. How long will it take you to get here?”

“I don’t want to meet there. That’s where they found me in the first place. Plus I think someone was following me earlier. I gave them the slip, but I want to meet someplace private. Somewhere we’re not going to be seen.”

My van was still parked at the airport, and I didn’t relish the idea of trying to flag down a taxi on a Saturday night when every drunk in town was going to be looking for a ride home. It left one deserted spot that would work well for me.

“Do you know where the Garrison Bight dinghy docks are?” I asked.

“I’m not going out on any boat.”

“We can meet under the bridge separating the dinghy dock parking from the charter boat parking. You’re not going to find a more private place at this time of night.”

“Give me a time,” she said.

“You’ll bring the diamonds?” I asked.

“Well duh. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”

“Half an hour,” I said. “And don’t forget my money.”

“Add an hour to that,” Destiny said, disconnecting the phone before I could argue the point. I stared at the phone’s screen for a moment, and then walked back inside Dirty Alvin’s. I had a lot of time to kill, and I found myself in desperate need of another drink.

***

The wind had picked up from the north and a mist from the Gulf of Mexico permeated the air. My skin was damp and I was shivering from the cold breeze by the time I turned into the parking lot. Destiny was nowhere to be seen, and the itch between my shoulder blades was spreading. I’d spent the entire time it took to walk from the bar to the dinghy docks regretting my decision to help Destiny. I had no reason to trust her, yet here I was standing alongside the parking lot waiting and watching for her. No Destiny.

Casting a final look across the pavement I ran over to the grassy area between the lot and the bridge. The narrow, overgrown strip was jacketed with shadow and the large bridge pillars offered additional protection. The grass was damp and slippery from the mist and my tennis shoes were soon soaked.

Pausing beside the first pillar I scanned the parking lot one more time. This was the fringe area of Charter Boat Row and there were a half dozen small fishing charter boats docked along the break wall. None were larger than forty feet, and none would be occupied at this time of night.

I crept along. It took ten minutes to make my way to where the lot dipped and turned under the bridge. As I moved forward I heard nothing and saw nothing. The silence was almost a noise onto itself.

Destiny might be one of those people who were always late, or she might have been right about being followed. Destiny should be begging for my help, considering that Bob and Frankie were looking for her. On top of that, if Elvis had been trying to sell the diamonds, he might not have been too happy about giving them back. Maybe now I could convince Destiny she was up to her neck in trouble, and she needed my help to get free.

When I reached the dip, I slid behind the last piling on the south side of the road, went down on one knee, and keeping to the deepest shadows I peered around the concrete column. Again there was no Destiny.

I knelt there for several minutes, and then stood and stepped out into the road. “Destiny,” I called out. “Are you out there?”

When there was no reply, I started walking under the bridge toward the dinghy docks. I thought I saw a shadow move on the other side of the road, and I was more than a little spooked by the quiet.

I had decided to head back to my boat when the shadow across from me moved into the light.

 
“Hey Fuck-Name,” one of the twins said. I thought it was Bob but I couldn’t be sure.

He was dressed for stealth in a pair of dark sweat pants and a plain black t-shirt, and was pointing a gun at me. I was trying to decide if I should take a chance and make a break for it when I heard a noise to my right. Turning my head, I watched another shadow rise from the cockpit of the fishing boat docked at the end of the dock.

The name of the boat, ‘Surprise Ending’, registered in my mind when the shadow stepped from the boat to the dock. Now I was looking at my worst nightmare, the second brother. He also wore a pair of dark sweat pants, a plain black t-shirt, and held gun. For the life of me I couldn’t tell which one was which.

“You look surprised, Wes,” the brother across from me said. “I told you there wouldn’t always be a crowd around.” He crossed the road and stopped in front of me. “Willie and me was beginning to think you was avoiding us.”

I looked down at his gun and wondered if I’d be able to drop back into the shadows and disappear before he could get off a shot. Before I could react Willie ran up behind me. He jammed the barrel of his gun into my side, and laughed.

Willie did a professional job of frisking me while I wondered where the hell Destiny was. As he finished patting my legs down, he said, “No gun.”

“Where is it?” Bob asked.

“Where’s what?” I asked.

Bob opened his jacket, slid his pistol into the holster under his arm, and stepped in close to me. He balled his right hand into a fist and I tried to step away, but Willie pressed his gun into my back.

While Willie twisted the barrel into my kidney, Bob hauled off and slammed his fist into my stomach.

“I want my gun back.” Bob spit in my face and followed up the first punch with one to my jaw. I fell to my knees and he let out a roaring laugh. I could taste blood from where his blow had split my lip. While I tried to suck in some air, Bob grabbed my hair and pulled my face up. Looking into my eyes he said, “I told you I’d kill you if you took my gun. Now where is it?”

“I didn’t bring it along.”

“Dumb move.” Bob lashed out with his foot and caught me in the ribs with his foot.

I grunted and tried to stand. I heard Willie move around behind me and I tried to twist out of the way. Something heavy struck me against the back of my head and I found myself lingering in the dead zone between awareness and unconsciousness.

I was unable to put up a struggle when they hoisted me to my feet. They goose stepped me across the parking lot and dragged me down the ramp to the dinghy dock. We stopped halfway down the dock, and when they let go of me, I teetered and almost fell into the water. Willie reached out and steadied me while Bob took out his phone and made a call.

“We’ve got him,” Bob said.

He was quiet while whoever was on the phone said something, and he turned his back to me so I couldn’t hear what he was saying. He listened again for a minute, closed the phone, and looked at me.

“If it was up to me,” Bob said, “I’d get rid of you right now. But Frankie wants his diamonds. I got orders not to hurt you if you cooperate. I sort of hope you don’t—cooperate that is.” He nodded towards the Gulf. “I’d love to tie an anchor to you and drop you out there.”

I didn’t like the picture Bob painted. I suspected that even if he got the stones back he’d take it as a sign I’d stopped cooperating. The moon was full but half covered by clouds. The wind fluttered from the north and the air tasted moist. I could feel that a storm was coming and I wondered if I’d live to see it.

“I don’t have the diamonds,” I said.

Bob nodded indicating he understood, and then he stepped forward and sucker punched me in the gut. I bent over and he put the palm of his right hand on my chin. Jerking my face up, he moved in so close I could smell the faint remnants of onion and hot peppers on his breath.

“We can do this the easy way.” Bob squeezed my chin in his hand until I thought my jaw was going to crack. “Or we can do this the hard way.” He dropped his hand from my chin and before I could pull away he backhanded me across the mouth. Once again I tasted blood. I ran my tongue along the ridge of my teeth and felt one move. Things were not looking good for me. I decided that if I got away, I’d pay Bob back for all the attention he was showering on me.

“What makes you think I have the diamonds?”

“We don’t think, we know. Destiny fingered you to the boss. She told Frankie she gave them to you and now he wants us to take you out to your boat and search it.”

Willie pointed at a rubber dinghy which was sitting at the end of the far dock. “I’m not going anywhere in one of those little boats. You trying to get us killed?”

“You want to call Frankie and tell him you’re afraid to do what he wants?”

Willie hesitated, and then gave me a rough shove. “Which one is yours?”

I pointed to my dinghy, and he pushed me in that direction. “I don’t like this Bobbie. You know I can’t swim.”

Bob ignored his complaints. When we got to the dinghy Bob climbed in ahead of us, found a life jacket under the seat and threw it at his brother. “Put this on.” Taking the seat by the engine he stooped forward to examine it.

“Where’s the key?”

“You pull the rope to start it,” I said.

“Like a lawn mower?” Willie asked.

“Sort of.” I stood and watched Bob pull the cord three times. When the engine wouldn’t start, he looked up at me.

“Why won’t it start?”

“You need to pull the choke out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place, smartass?”

I shrugged. “Maybe I should drive?”

Bob looked back at the motor, slid into the next seat back, and drew his gun. He nodded toward the rear of the boat. I sat down and he touched the pistol to my left knee. “Try anything and I’ll plug you. Understand?”

I nodded, started the engine, and reached out to untie the skiff. Bob touched the barrel of the pistol to my leg again. “Willie, you untie this thing, and get in here.”

Willie did what he was told and the skiff began to drift away from the dock. Willie panicked, put one foot onto the seat and crashed into the bottom of the boat. At the same time I put the engine into gear and started swinging it around.

Willie yelled, tried to stand, and was knocked back into the boat when I accelerated. The skiff wobbled, and for a moment I thought we were all going for a swim, but Bob reached his free hand around, steadied his brother and waved the gun in front of my face.

“Why’d you do that for?” he asked.

“If we’d sat there and waited, Willie would have tipped us.”

I knew he didn’t believe me, but since we were all settled in he let it go. Several minutes later we swung out into the less protected waters of the Gulf and I increased our speed.

Chapter 15

“Slow down before you kill us.” I had to strain to make out Willie’s words, yet there was no mistaking the terror in his outburst. He was seated in the front of the boat and was holding onto the sides of the skiff for support. The wind was blowing hard from the north, at least twenty knots, and the three-foot waves were close together and spewing buckets of cold water over the bow. Each time a wave broke over the bow of the boat he cried out and cowered in his seat. It was all I could do to hold back the laughter that was scratching at the back of my throat.

I had been pushing the boat at top speed, trying to ride the waves. With the weight of three men on board, I was finding it impossible to bring the skiff up to plane. Under normal conditions the Mercury outboard would pick up enough speed to plane the skiff along the surface of the water like a streamlined hovercraft. The extra weight forced us to slog through the waves at a crawl. Both of my passengers looked uncomfortable, which made the pounding we were taking almost enjoyable to me.

When we reached the first row of moored boats a large foaming wave crested in front of the dinghy and washed over Willie’s back, causing him to scream in terror. Bob leaned forward and tapped my leg with his pistol. “You heard my brother.” He was squinting into the wind and there was a hint of fear in his voice as he tried to speak above the roar of the engine and the pounding of the waves. “Slow down.”

My legs were frozen from the cold water and I barely felt the nudge, so I ignored his pleas. This time when he snapped the barrel of the gun against my knee it was with enough force that I couldn’t ignore it.

I leaned toward him and said through gritted teeth, “It’s not a good idea. Believe me; I know what I’m doing, and slowing down will only make things worse.”