Chapter 11
"Iwas in for a hot minute," Shane said. "But that's all behind me now.” He smiled. "The future is bright and looking brighter every day," he said, lifting his glass to toast.
Shane downed another shot, and so did we.
I flagged down a waitress and ordered two whiskeys for JD and me, thinking it wise to let the tequila be. Riley said she'd take a beer.
The waitress darted away.
Wade finally showed up at the table.
"I don't think you've met before," Shane said. "This is my little brother, Wade."
"Nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand.
We shook, and Wade pulled up a chair to sit at the end of the booth. He spun it around backwards and leaned against the back rest, a longneck dangling between his fingers.
Shane gave him a brief recap of our history in the Navy together.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Wade said. His eyes narrowed with recognition at Jack. "You're in Wild Fury, aren't you?"
Jack smiled. "Guilty as charged."
"Now that's my kind of music," Wade said. "Beats the dog shit out of this crap," he said, motioning to the band on stage. He looked at Shane. "You never told me you had famous friends."
"Famous might be a stretch," Jack said, feigning modesty.
"Give it time,” Wade said. “You guys are going places!”
"I'll put you on the guest list for the next show," Jack said. "That goes for all of you.”
"Much obliged," Wade replied. He leaned in and whispered, "Put me down for +2. I think these little blondes over here will enjoy the show," he said pointing back to the two beauties that lingered by the dance floor.
"You got it," Jack said.
"Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I need to get back to business." Wade climbed off the chair, spun it around, and put it back under the table where it came from. He strutted back to the two beauties who were already getting hit on in his absence.
"The kid can't stop chasing it," Shane said.
"Who can?" JD replied.
Riley shook her head. "I think I'll leave you boys to it. I’ve got work in the morning.”
Shane looked at his watch—a Rolex OP, or a lookalike. "It's not that late yet.”
"Some of us have real jobs.”
Shane frowned at her.
I stood up as she excused herself. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
"Likewise, gentlemen. I know you'll keep him out of trouble, at least for the night."
She sauntered away, and I rejoined the table.
"Don't get any funny ideas, Wild. She's off limits."
I raised my hands innocently. "Not my type."
He laughed. "I know better.”
We had a few drinks, reminisced about the good old days, and remembered fallen comrades.
It was a little after 1:00 AM when we cleared out of the place. The guys in the band had rounded up a small entourage, and we headed back to the boat for a little after-party. I invited Shane and Wade.
"Holy shit, Wild!" he said, standing on the dock in front of the Avventura. “Special Crimes, huh?”
"We volunteer for the county," I said.
"How the hell did you two come to be in possession of this thing?”
"Just good fortune, I guess," I said.
He gave me a doubtful look, then raised his hands in surrender. "I know better than to ask too many questions."
"It's not like that," I said.
"Sure it's not," he replied as he crossed the passerelle to the aft deck.
We made our way up to the sky deck, and Jack slid behind the bar and poured more drinks. The usual debauchery ensued, and a good time was had by all.
Shane and Wade stayed for a few drinks before taking off.
I decided to call it an evening, even though the party would continue for a few more hours on the sky deck.
The morning came way too soon.
Shafts of amber light pierced the blinds. I pulled myself out of bed, still feeling the remnants of the tequila mixed with the whiskey.
I took a shower, got dressed, and went through my morning routine. In the galley, I put on a pot of coffee and grilled up bacon, eggs, and hash browns. The delightful aroma percolated through the ship. Beer cans and drink glasses littered the boat.
I turned on the TV and caught up with the morning news.
Isabella buzzed my phone.
"Tell me something good."
"I may or may not have hacked into the database of the Vault. The unit that was robbed is registered to an offshore company. I tracked that down, and it’s owned by another offshore company. I'm peeling back the onion, trying to figure out who actually owns it. I'll let you know what I find out.”
"Seems like a lot of trouble to go to just to rent out a private vault," I said, knowing exactly what it meant.
"I think we both know why somebody went to the trouble. What do you think was stolen?”
"Cash, drugs, stolen merchandise.”
“There’s something else. Cody Harwell’s phone has been making several calls to a prepaid cellular over the last several months. Their cell phones meet up at various locations around town.”
“You think he’s the inside man?”
“That or he’s having an affair with someone. The phones meet at the Seahorse Shores on occasion.”
It was a seedy motel on the edge of town, notorious for illicit trysts, drug deals, and college kids looking for a place to party and a room to trash.
Isabella continued. "As far as the homicide at the Metropolis…
The only cell phone that pings the tower from that apartment belongs to Sydney Hollister.
There are too many other cell phones in the complex to make heads or tales out of anything.
Before Sydney returned to the apartment, she was at her grandfather's house in Palm Haven.” Isabella gave me a list of recent calls and texts, which I already had. “I'll keep digging around."
“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I said before ending the call.
I didn’t really want to do it, but I ran background on Shane through the online portal. He’d gotten pinched in Miami on a burglary charge. Made off with a quarter million in cash from a nightclub safe. Took a plea deal and served 8 out of a 10-year sentence. Out early for good behavior.
All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind. Thoughts that I didn’t want to have.
Jack staggered out of his stateroom with bleary eyes and tousled hair, looking like he was feeling last night as well.
We dished up plates and chowed down on the sky deck as the amber rays of morning bathed the marina and sparkled the water. Boats swayed in their slips, and gulls hung on the breeze. It was a nice morning.
We stuffed our faces, crunched on bacon, sipped coffee, and kicked around theories about the cases. I filled him in on Shane’s background.
He frowned and shook his head. “Doesn’t surprise me. That guy always did straddle the line.”
“That’s a little more than straddling the line. That’s crossing well over.”
Jack read my mind. “You think he crossed over again?”
“I don’t want to think that. But it’s a helluva coincidence that he shows up and the Vault gets knocked off.”