Chapter 11
W earing the duffel bag like a backpack, I trudged down the gravel drive to Ellie’s aunt’s house, utterly ashamed.
I slipped out of the straps and lowered the bag to the ground beside the house. Searching for the smallest bits of coral rock I could find, I started lobbing them at Ellie’s window.
Plink! Plink!
Finally, a pale face appeared behind the besieged glass. “Spencer!” she hissed, sliding open the window and sticking her head out. “It’s the middle of the night. What is wrong with you?”
“Come down,” I half-whispered. “I need to talk to you.”
“Shhhh, you’ll wake Val!” She disappeared back inside, shutting the window behind her. I hop-stepped to duck behind a bush, hoping she was on her way down.
A minute later, I heard the kitchen door creak open. She peered around and I stepped out of the shadows. “What are you doing here at this hour?” she whisper-shouted. “Trying to get me in trouble?” Her angry eyes turned concerned as she took in my bedraggled appearance.“Wait, what happened to you?”
“I need your help, Ellie,” I said, unable to control the tremble in my voice. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Help with what?” She looked me up and down. “Why are you all wet?”
“I messed up.” It all came crashing down, and I started to weave on my feet as the adrenaline that had kept me going faded. I leaned back against a gnarled lignumvitae tree. “They got George,” I admitted, dropping my head in my hands.“The cops got George.”
“But you told me you were out,” Ellie said, more concerned than angry.
I looked up at her, her pale hair a silver halo in the moonlight. Shame washed over me in a cold wave. “I was out. George said if I did this one last job, I’d be out. But everything went wrong.”
Something shifted in Ellie as she stared down on me. Sympathy took hold. Putting her arm around my shoulders, she knelt beside me. “It can’t be that bad. Tell me what happened.”
Wordlessly I pulled the duffel closer and unzipped it, tearing the black plastic to show her the bricks of cash inside.
She reached out a hand, poking the edges with one finger. “Spencer?”
“We got to the marina and George changed things up,” I blurted. “Instead of being a lookout, he wanted me to make the money drop.” I struggled to catch my breath between the words that poured. “I was on my way to Alligator, heading offshore, when they raided the marina and arrested him.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So, George is in jail… But you still have the money?”
“Mateo told me to hold on to it, that George will come for it. I don’t know what to do with it. I can’t put it in the bank.”
“No!” she shouted in agreement, surprising herself, and instinctively covered her mouth. Glancing back at the house for signs her aunt had heard the noise, she whispered, “No, you absolutely cannot put the money in the bank.”
“I can’t take it home with me either. What the hell do I do?” I had too much money stashed in my closet already, but that was nothing compared to this.
Ellie zipped the duffel. “Make Mateo deal with it.”
“I can’t, he’s gone.”
She squinted. “What do you mean, gone ?”
“He dropped me off and split town,” I explained, embarrassed for some reason that I’d ended up in such a ridiculous position. “Waylan too, he’s heading to Tallahassee as fast as he can.”
“Fuck…” It was the first time I’d ever heard Ellie use that word. She unzipped the bag again and peered inside. “How much is it?”
I laid out the soggy cash in 10K bundles, on the pea gravel. 25 of them. “$250,000?” I added one last, smaller, bundle to the stacks. “Plus my take. ”
“You definitely can’t take it to the bank.” She picked up a brick, weighing it in her hands. “Deposits over $5000 have to be reported.”
“So what do I do with it then?” I asked, sick to my stomach as she dropped the money bag into the bag.
Ellie looked up to meet my gaze, wiping her hands on her cut off jean shorts. “I don't want to get involved with drug money. But I hate to think what might happen to you if you don't keep it safe for George.”
“Me too,” I said, running my hands into my salty hair. The thought made me sick to my stomach.
Ellie spoke slowly and matter-of-factly. “If this is really it, and you're out, then I'll help you hide it.”
“I’m done,” I pledged, hand over my heart. “This was one last job.” My voice caught in my throat. I reached for her hands, holding them as I leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry to put you in this position, Ellie. You’re the last person I want to put at risk.”
“I know,” she said softly. “Come on.” She stood, still holding one hand. “I have an idea.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, wearily coming to my feet.
“I’ll show you—this way,” she pointed toward the bay. “Bring the money,” she added as she took off down to the water.
I swayed under the weight of the money, my body feeling battered and heavy.
Ellie led me down to the shore in the darkness, uncovering a tandem kayak stored under some tarps. Together we launched it without a word .
I tossed the duffel in the back and held it steady while she climbed in the front. Once I was in, she handed me a paddle. I was the muscle, following her lead.
We paddled in silence until maybe half an hour later she pointed her paddle into a dark mangrove tunnel. “Here.” The sun was just peeking over the horizon, illuminating the shallows and green of the canopy.
“Here?” It looked like every other mangrove island we had passed.
“Yes!” She dipped the paddle in, pulling the water toward herself, and slid the kayak beneath the arching branches.
As we reached the end of the tunnel and it opened up into a hidden little bay, Ellie had a look of wonder as she said, “It’s my secret spot, where I used to always come when I needed to work things out,” her excitement bubbling.
An above-the-water root was sticking out like a bent knee.
Ellie reached out and grabbed a hold. Hopping out onto the mesh network of interlocking roots that created an ‘island’ absent any ground, she navigated the mangroves easily.
I watched, admiring her dexterity and ease as she hitched the kayak to a tree.
I followed, awkwardly lugging the bag of cash, as she hopped from one branch to the next, deeper into the mangroves, towards what I could just make out as some type of make-shift structure.
She climbed up onto the weathered plywood floor supported by the thicker branches emerging from the roots at the center of the island.
Erected a few feet above the water, running between the latticework of roots beneath our feet, the treehouse sported a simple tin roof over wooden plank walls.
The windows were rough openings, as was the door-sized hole in the wall .
“The money should be safe here.”
Once we were both inside, I dropped the bag with a surge of relief and took her in my arms. She didn’t resist as my lips sealed onto hers. With more gratitude than I ever thought I could feel, I exhaled the words, “Thank you.”
I hugged her close, stroking her hair, taking in her scent. A mix of summer and sunshine. “How did you find this place? Whose is it?”
She drew in a deep breath through her nose, and pulled back to face me.
“Mine. I mean, well, the island belongs to the state, I guess. It’s parkland.
But my uncle built this structure. He brought me here when I was a little girl, and told me not to tell anyone else about it.
After he moved to Houston, it was my secret alone.
So no one knows about it but me. The money will be safe here until you can get it back to George. ”
I hoped she was right. I didn’t need some stranger chancing upon George’s money. “George has good lawyers. Hopefully he’ll be out in a couple of days.”
“True, but let's say the charges stick and he's in for serious time. What then? Are you just going to let it sit here?”
I hadn’t thought about it, any of it. “Not a good long term plan I suppose, but I hope I don’t need one.”
“Well if you’re stuck with it, you’ll either need to find a safer hiding spot, or you’ll need to clean it.”
My face scrunched. “Clean it?”
“Deposit it like it’s legitimate income. You know, money laundering.”
I didn’t know. I’d heard of money laundering, but had no idea how it worked. “How do you launder money, exactly? ”
“You deposit a little at a time and call it tips or charter pay. It will take a while to clean it, but if you do it that way no one will look twice.”
“A charter in my Whaler pays $100 a day—that’ll take forever!”
“It will, but you have to keep it explainable. If the IRS comes after you, they could take everything, and you could end up in jail with George.”
She pulled me down next to her in the doorway, and we sat, our feet hanging over the edge. I could see the wheels turning. “You’d need to open an account just for this.”
“Why?” I asked, confused. Had she learned all this in her first year of business school?
“We can trickle it into some investments, but you want to keep it separate from yours.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” It sounded complicated, and I was eager to wash my hands of the whole situation.
Overwhelmed, we stared out at the water, mesmerized by little fish darting between the roots of the trees.
Mangrove islands acted like nurseries for sea life, their roots providing a safe place for small fish, crabs, eels, and birds to hide from predators while they grew.
Here we were hiding the prize from the predators.
“What do you want to do with the money you’ve been saving?” Ellie finally asked, tugging my hand into her lap, and rubbing her thumb over the back of it.
“I want to buy a bigger boat, to run real charters.” That was the only thing I was sure about, aside from loving Ellie .
She looked pleased with my response. “That will help clean the money faster if it comes down to that. With a bigger boat you can charge a lot more. You can put fake charters on the books, and deposit that money, clean. You’ll have to pay taxes on it, of course, but that’s what makes dirty money clean. ”
I stared at her, in awe of her intelligence, and of her calm in this intense situation. She was cool as a cucumber. “Okay. I guess I need to find a boat then.” Even if George was able to buy his way out of this like I hoped, the boat was always my dream.
“Yeah, one you can pay cash for.” She thought for a minute.
“And we need to register a charter business with the state, and set up a bank account in the business name.” Her voice trailed off as she got lost in her own head.
Then she snapped back to reality. “I can help you with that part, if you want.”
Nervous jitters over involving Ellie in such a scheme mixed with profound gratitude that she was willing to help me out of this mess. I had a hard time answering as I choked back the emotion. “I want you to help with whatever you’re comfortable with. Thank you, Ellie.”
“I’m not at all comfortable with the money laundering part,” she said matter of factly, “but I’d do it for you.”
Relief washed over me like a cool breath of hope. “You must kinda like me to take this risk.” I smiled but was on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness—and by the risk she was willing to take on my behalf.
“Well I can’t exactly spend the rest of my life with you if you’re locked up or dead.”
My love for her swelled inside me, filling every corner of my heart as I stared into eyes as blue as the sea. “Do you mean that? The rest of your life?”
“Of course I mean that. I certainly wouldn’t consider helping you launder a quarter million dollars of drug money if I didn’t.
” Her sweet smile faded, her expression hardened.
“But I’m telling you right now, Spencer, this is the end of it.
We take care of George’s money for him, so you don’t get killed.
We set up a real business, where you can make a clean living.
And you never do any of this ever again. ”
“Deal.” I put an arm around her, pulling her close. We sat there side by side, now partners in every sense of the word. There was no problem we couldn’t solve if we tackled it together. “The rest of my life might not be long enough.”