Tuna Tango (21 page)

***

George pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. With a grimace he answered and listened. After a long minute he said, “Yes” and hung up. 

He sat on the couch in his living room, shirt unbuttoned to his waist, sweating profusely and breathing like Darth Vader. Sheryl sat across from him, unrestrained. She could run if she wanted, but the shotgun leaning next to him discouraged her, although he doubted he could even raise it to fire at her in his current condition. He certainly couldn’t chase her down. 

Lance had been clear that this needed to end now. He was sure Will and the boys were still alive and had taken his boat. George neither confirmed nor denied the claim, he just sat and listened. 

Now he had to decide what to do. Although he didn’t like it, Lance was his meal ticket. He got up and looked at Sheryl. 

“Jazmyn!” he yelled. 

The girl came into the room.

“Watch our friend here. I’ll be back.”

***

Will paced the floor of the fish house. “What do we do now?”

“
We
? I don’t see any we here,” Dick said.

“Shut up, Dick.” Kyle smacked him. “We need to get Sheryl back. You can’t just walk away from this like everything else that goes wrong in your life.”

Dick turned and walked outside.

“Let him go,” Will said as he sat down on a pile of lumber. He had been dizzy since they hit the beach and run the mile from the Don Cesar a half-hour ago. George was probably taking Sheryl back to his house, and he knew from the night before that going in there without a plan and something to back it up with was going to end badly. 

“You don’t look so good,” Kyle said as he handed him a jug of water.

“I’ll be OK. Just have to think.” Will sat there staring into space. The water helped, and he realized he was probably dehydrated; not the brightest thing to do with a concussion. His thoughts came back into focus, but he didn’t trust his body yet. Even though his mind seemed to be working better, a plan eluded him. Going into George's backyard was not an option without reinforcements and weapons, neither of which he had. He was close to panic when Dick came running back inside.

“Law’s here,” he yelled as he dropped through one of the holes in the floor. 

Will heard the water splash just as he heard a knock and saw a silhouette standing in the doorway. “Can I help you?” he called out from where he sat.

“Fish and Game. Name’s Brice.” The man held out credentials. 

Not sure where this was going, but with little choice, Will invited him in. The officer walked over to him and extended his hand. Will thought about getting up, but lacked the energy. He held his hand out and shook the man’s hand. 

“My name’s Will. This is Kyle. I’m the contractor on the job here. What can we do for you?”

“I got a report of some poaching. Some guy is supposedly using the freezer outside as a drop point. You have a key?”

“No, the owner says he leases it to a guy named George.” Will had no idea where this was going, and decided to offer little information. 

“Mind if I look around?” the officer asked.

“No. Go ahead,” Will said. Kyle was by one of the holes and Will saw the blood from the fish they had hoisted through it dried on the floor. Brice was looking out over the water, glancing down at the dock when Will had an idea. 

“Kyle, we need to cover the holes so no one falls through. You want to grab a sheet of plywood and start with that one?” He pointed to the blood-stained area, hoping the four-by-eight sheet of wood would hide the stain. 

Kyle went for the wood, but it was too late; they had attracted Brice’s attention, and he started toward them. He was a dozen steps away, the blood just becoming visible, when they heard a boat pull up to the dock outside.

All three turned as a man yelled, “Can you toss me a line?”

Will struggled to his feet and went to the end of the building adjacent to the intracoastal. The officer was a step ahead, giving him the time to motion to Kyle to stay where he was and finish covering the hole. When he reached the window, he saw Lance idling by the low docks, waiting for a line to tie up. 

“Better go around to the marina and tie up there,” Will yelled. “There’s no easy way in from there.” 

He turned toward the door and nodded to Kyle, who had just gotten the plywood into place. Brice followed him out the door and they went across to the pier running parallel to the building. Lance was just pulling up to an empty slip. Will stayed on the seawall and watched a marina employee run to help him tie off. 

He waited where he was, watching Brice and Lance talking by the boat. They finished their conversation and came toward him. Not sure whether he should just put his hands out and await handcuffs, he stood stiffly. 

“Officer has some questions about George,” Lance said as he approached. “Why don’t you help him out?” He lowered his voice, “Tell him the right story and we can still make this work.”

Will picked up on the nuance and wondered what Lance was up to. He appeared to be throwing George under the bus. The law going after George might help get Sheryl back, though, so he went toward Brice. “Happy to help,” he said.

Brice took out a notepad and asked Will for his personal information. Just as he seemed like he was about to ask about what he knew, they heard the roar of a diesel engine pull into the parking lot. Both men turned simultaneously and watched as the black truck stopped and George got out. Will tried to peer into the tinted windows to see if Sheryl was with him, but they were too dark. 

George took one look at the officer and went for Lance. “What did you say?”

“Officer has some questions for you,” Lance answered.

Will could see the panic in Lance’s eyes as he waited to see what George would do. It took a few seconds for the larger man to react before he went for him. 

“Bastard!” He pushed Lance into the water. He was caught by surprise and hit hard, but soon surfaced and swam to the closest pier, well out of reach.

“Goddamn it! I go down, I’m taking your sorry ass with me!” he yelled as he clung to the pole and tried to hoist himself to reach the dock. It was low tide, though, and his hand fell inches short. He clung to the barnacle encrusted pile his arms dripping blood.

Brice stood next to Will, both men watching the action. Finally he turned to Will. “Can you please tell me what’s going on here?” 

“I’ll tell you,” the accented voice of a woman yelled. 

Will looked over and saw Jazmyn standing in the bow of George's boat, a line in her hand. He looked toward the helm, and there was Sheryl at the wheel pulling up to the lower dock of the fish house. 

“Bitch, stay out of this!” George yelled and stamped toward the building. 

He was almost to the back of the building ready to pull a piece of plywood off an old door opening when Brice and Will entered.

“Better watch what comes out of that mouth of yours!” George yelled at her as he grasped the wood and pulled trying to gain access to the boat and the woman.

Brice drew his gun. “Enough. No one move!”

Chapter 23

Will stood there next to the officer with his gun drawn, wondering what the two women were doing here and working together. George let go of the plywood and turned with a grace that belied his body he drew a gun from his waistband and fired. Brice fell to the floor, grabbing his leg. Will froze, and watched as George made his way across the room. He looked down at Brice and watched as blood poured from the wound as the fallen officer reached for the microphone clipped to his lapel in an effort to call for help. 

Before his hand reached it, George kicked his gun away and yanked at the wire connecting the microphone to the unit on his belt. Weaponless and unable to communicate, Brice rolled away from him and with his back against the wall he tried to stem the bleeding. Will was about to assist him when George went back to the window.

 He rested his elbows on the sill and extended the gun through the opening. 

“Gregori!” he heard a woman scream. 

“Both of you. In here now.” He backed away, but kept the gun aimed at the women as they climbed through the window into the building. 

“I want my money from the American and to be done with you. Threatening to send me back to Russia,” she spat at him. 

George smiled as if he was enjoying himself. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be digging potatoes from the frozen ground on that farm I bought you from.”

Will rose and looked over at Sheryl, who seemed unharmed. He mouthed from across the room
are you ok?
She nodded back, a tear falling down her cheek. He was so intent on her that he didn’t notice the movement out of the corner of his eye until it was too late. He had forgotten about the boy.

Kyle went for the gun George had kicked away from Brice’s reach, but he was too slow, and George spun toward him. “Back away, sonny. I’ve had enough of all of you.” He focused his aim on Sheryl. “Seems you’re all attached to the girl here.” 

“Dude!” They heard a voice yell from below.

Kyle backed away from the gun, took a step toward an open hole, and jumped. Will knew it was now or never, and ran for George as he turned to watch Kyle disappear. Before he reached him, he stumbled and lost his balance, careening into the bigger man. His momentum carried George forward a few feet, and they landed on the plywood sheet, which cracked.

George fell through the hole below it, nearly in slow motion. His body hit the beam they had just placed and spasmed, his back breaking from the impact. 

Before anyone could react, they heard a boat engine start. Sheryl walked well clear of George's body, trying not to look at the grimace on his face, and went to help Brice, who was semiconscious on the floor. Will went for the door. 

He was out in the lot when he saw Jazmyn trying to pull George's boat out. The boat swung out of control as she attempted to steer, though, her efforts overcorrecting for each turn, and without enough power to compensate it turned toward the marina pier. They heard a scream as she bore down on the piling, and he saw Lance frantically swimming away from the oncoming boat. His jaw dropped as the fiberglass hull hit the wooden piling and spun the boat, the propeller aiming right at Lance. 

He disappeared under the water, and a pool of red appeared seconds later.

Somehow, she got the boat pointed toward open water and accelerated. She turned toward Will with a look he would not soon forget, before she had to correct course. The boat sped away, drifting from side to side as she tried to control it. 

When she was out of sight, Will looked back toward the building and ran inside. Sheryl was huddled over Brice, who was leaning against a pole now, holding a rag against his wound.

“He OK?” Will asked.

“Yeah. The bleeding’s stopped. I guess it didn’t hit anything critical. Help should be here soon.”

He sat down next to her and reached for her hand.

Chapter 24

The boat cut through the two-foot swell as Will lashed the tiller and trimmed the sails. He sat back and watched the waves. It had taken two days for the police to tell him he was no longer suspected of anything, and he knew that Brice’s account had helped things considerably. Sheryl had stayed on the boat with him in the meantime, some of their former closeness returning. It wasn’t the throws of passion, as it had been, but it was more than he knew he should expect. 

She’d explained how Jazmyn had colluded with her after George had threatened her and stormed out of the house. The threat of George returning her to Russia had forced her into action, and with the only means of transport the boat, she needed Sheryl. The two women had reached an uneasy peace.

Will had told the whole story of meeting Jazmyn in the bar, drugging her, and the rescue at sea the next day. 

“I can’t go back to work at the club. Not after all this. And we still don’t know what happened to Dick and Kyle,” she said.