Bonefish Blues (13 page)

"That's a loose end that could use tying up," Pagliano said. He started to hand the phone back to Braken, but withdrew it. "You got his number in here?" He scrolled through the contacts. “There you go … Matty, how cute." He typed in a text to Matt. “He should be answering any second now. Let's get to the car and go find boy wonder."

***

Matt wandered aimlessly around the parking lot, not sure what to do. Sitting inside, watching the deputy fill out forms was not getting his mom back. Wanting his phone back, though, he walked around the building and knocked on the back door, hoping Justine would answer.

The intercom crackled. "Matt, that you?"

“Hey, let me in."

He stepped back as the door cracked open. "I'm not supposed to do this,” she muttered.

"I need my phone."

"Just finished and gave it back to the deputy. Sorry, Matt. Can't get a line on your mom's phone. Must be dead or something."

Matt thought for a minute, and wondered if Will and Sheryl had missed him yet. It'd been at least ten minutes since he had walked outside. If he went in again, he suspected they might not let him leave again. "Justine, do me a solid and get the phone back. Tell him you thought of something else or something. I don't want to go back in there."

"Sure thing. Deputy dog gives me the creeps, anyhow. Hang out a minute. I'll be right back."

Matt waited by the door, thinking about his next move. He was so revved up he could feel the blood pulsing in his ears and felt useless hanging around here just waiting. Hopefully Justine would help.

The door opened and Justine poked her head out and handed Matt the phone. "Here you go, Matt. Good luck.”

He glanced at the screen hoping there was something about his mom. Just as he was about to look away a text came in from his grandfather.
Got your mom.
Meet us at the Marina - all good
. His spirits lifted thinking his mom was safe. But he needed transportation. Will would give him a ride but he didn’t want to chance going back inside and being asked to stay for whatever reason deputy dog dreamed up. He looked at Justine "Cool. Hey, you got a bike here? I need to do something besides sit here and wait."

"Sure. It’ll cost you later, though.” She winked. “Wish I could have helped more. It's around the side there.” She pointed to a concrete bollard protecting the electric meter. "Lock is 33533."

"Thanks." Matt turned to see if she was still there as he walked to the bike, he was met by her smile as the door shut. He fumbled with the lock, his trembling hands out of sync with his racing mind. Finally it came free and he stuck the U shaped lock on the seat stem. Before he took off, he texted his dad not knowing how, but hoping he could help. He knew that there was bad blood between them, but that his dad still cared for his mom. Maybe this would be some kind of wake up call for him. 

Without looking back, he pedaled out to US 1, stopped at a crosswalk, and checked his phone. The battery was running down to ten percent, but he didn't dare turn it off. Just as he was about to put it back in his pocket, it pinged with a message from his grandfather asking where he was. Hoping it was good news about his mom, he texted back that he was heading for the Marina.

He tried to force Justine’s smile from his mind and focus on what he had to do now as he peddled the two miles to the marina. The pink cruiser made the turn into the lot and coasted to a stop next to his grandfather’s car. There were two people in the car; his grandfather behind the wheel, and a woman was in the passenger seat.

The window rolled down. "It's all right Matt. We got her back,” Braken said.

Her head turned towards him and Matt saw the bruises. "Mom! Are you okay?” He dropped the bike and ran around to the passenger side. Just as his hand touched the door handle, she ducked and a figure rose up from the back seat, a gun pointed at Matt’s head.

The back door opened and Pagliano emerged, keeping the gun pointed at Matt. "In the car. Now."

Matt stood there in shock.

"Now, or she’ll suffer more of the same.” The gun motioned toward the back seat. Matt could see his mom through the window. She was injured and out of it. As he looked closer he could see her torn clothing and bruises. The only chance he had to help her was to go. If he ran off again he was sure Pagliano would inflict more damage. He moved toward the door and nodded his head for Matt to slide over. "Well, looks like we've got a family reunion. All except the drunk one, and he’s probably lost in a bottle somewhere. Now, I'll take you up on that invitation to use your house, Braken."

***

Will and Sheryl alternated sitting and pacing. He wanted to go outside and see what Matt was doing, realizing he’d been gone a while, but he was anxious something would happen the minute he stepped out. He glanced at the clock and calculated they had been there for almost an hour. Normally patient enough to wait out a tide, he was tired of waiting. Matt needed his help. Figuring the boy would still be outside, he whispered something to Sheryl who nodded in understanding, stood and went to the door.

"Sheriff should be here anytime," the deputy called out from his desk. 

His resolve faded but with Sheryl behind him he couldn’t turn back. "No problem, just getting some fresh air." He looked over at Sheryl. "Want to stretch your legs?"

She followed him outside, frowning. "Where'd Matt go? It’s been a while.”

"I don't know. He said he was just going to get some air. Matt!” he yelled. He waited for a response and then yelled again, starting to get concerned. "I'll go around this way. Why don't you take the other way and see if he's here?”

Will went to the right, Sheryl to the left. A short minute later they had checked the building. 

"I didn't see him," she said as they met in front again.

"Me either," Will said. "What now?” He cursed himself for letting Matt get out of his sight. “ He must have gotten impatient and went after Nicole by himself."

"But how? We drove him here."

"I don't know, but we need to find him. It's not good for him to be cruising around looking for her by himself. And what if he finds her? I don't think that scarface would think twice about hurting him. Or worse,” he said.

“Let me tell the deputy we're going to grab a bite to eat, not that he’ll care. At the rate they work, he'll still be filling out paperwork when we get back.” She pulled on the handle. 

“But where would he have gone?” Sheryl asked as she emerged from the building. 

“No idea. We can check his house or the marina but I doubt he’ll be at either place,” Will said. “Deputy OK?”

She nodded and stared at her phone, then gasped. "Will, I'm in a couple of groups around here, you know, kayaking and some environmental stuff. I just got some notifications that they are holding a protest out at Flamingo Key in the morning." She opened the link to the event and scrolled through the page. “There’s a link to a video, but it doesn’t work.”

Will knew right away what it was, “That must have been the video Matt posted.”

“Does it say anything else?”

"It's a big group to start with but the RSVP’s are already two pages long and still coming. Hey, you know I've seen Braken hanging around the group. There’s a couple of guys like him - old guys trying to pick up young girls. Guys like that give me the creeps - especially him.”

"So, he would know too?"

"I think so. He would get the same messages I did." 

Will thought for a minute. "That's going to force their hand. They'll have to do something and cover this up before then."

Sheryl looked back at her phone. “They are meeting at 8:00 tomorrow morning at the 54th Street ramp.

"If I was Braken, I'd make that thing go away before that.”

***

Braken walked up to his house with a gun at his back, Pagliano walking behind the three hostages. "No lights." He held up his phone, moving it around the building. Like most homes in hurricane-prone areas, the house was built up on piers, with a carport and often a storeroom below. There was only one door for the enclosed space downstairs. Pagliano yanked on the locked knob, "Open it."

Braken withdrew a key chain from his pocket and fumbled in the dark for the key. He saw Pagliano growing impatient, but that only increased his nervousness, and he dropped the ring.

"Pick it up and find the key.” He pointed the gun at Matt.

Matt picked up the ring and started to try each in the lock. On the third try, the door swung open.

"In.” He motioned with his gun. Braken went in first, followed by Matt, who was helping Nicole. Once they were inside, Pagliano closed the door and turned on the light. The room held the usual garage assortment of tools and hardware. He picked up a crowbar, turned off the light, and went outside, closing the door behind him. "You guys sit tight. I won't be long, gotta make a Home Depot run."

They heard a smash as the crowbar came down onto the lock.

Chapter 17

Joey Pagliano cruised the aisles of Home Depot, feeling out of place as he pushed the signature orange cart through the aisles. First stop was the outdoor garden area, where he loaded six bags of fertilizer with the highest nitrogen content he could find. Still outside, he located the pool chemicals, and added a case of muriatic acid to the cart. He’d spent several minutes on his phone in the parking lot, and pulled up the top ten homemade bombs. The materials on his list were a combination of the most popular ingredients from his quick search. Later, he would spend some time on the proportions, but now he hustled through the store, loading up kerosene, acetone, some five-gallon buckets, and a couple of tiki torches. Surprised that he wasn’t detained and Homeland Security called, he breezed through the checkout without the twenty-something inked up clerk giving him a second glance. 

Braken’s car was loaded with the materials, bags of fertilizer stacked in the back seat when he pulled out into traffic, trying to control his usual urge to speed. Either an accident or a ticket would be fatal to his plans. The former could blow the car, the latter land him in jail. The Meetup notification had accelerated his plans. Tomorrow morning, if the video was any indicator, hundreds of people would be surrounding his island. And with these activists you never knew how long they were going to stay. Hell, he could see a commune being set up there. The evidence had to be destroyed before they showed up. Several minutes later, he pulled into Braken’s driveway and parked under the carport. A quick check of the storeroom door showed no change, the lock still mangled.

“You guys in there?” he called out.

“Let us out of here!” Matt yelled. 

Satisfied that they were under control, he went upstairs to finish his research, wincing when a security light came on as he was halfway up the stairs. Glancing toward it, he noticed a kayak hanging from two ropes. The image of Braken floating around in the plastic boat made him laugh out loud. Maybe he could take out a bunch of the kayakers. There was going to be hell to pay with his bosses in Jersey, anyway. Carnage was never a bad thing. Several years ago he had been exiled to Miami for a botched deal, and since then his results had not been stellar. The mob bosses didn’t understand that there were different dynamics in South Florida. How could he generate the no show jobs they needed to show a W-2 to the IRS when there were no union jobs to scam off. And everybody in real estate here was running some kind of scam. A lot of competition and half of them spoke another freakin’ language. But a body count always seemed to satisfy them. 

Once inside, he went to Braken’s computer and turned it on. A porn site came on the screen as soon as it warmed up. He laughed as he minimized it and opened Google to finish his research. He looked like a college student taking notes as he scanned through site after site. Surprisingly, it took only three sites to piece together enough information to start assembly. The printer started its warmup and then spat out five pages, which he grabbed and took downstairs. 

***

Will stood by the dock, wondering what their next move should be. He felt energized, but at the same time confused. Hero duty was not in his wheelhouse. Usually the guy on the side lines, he hadn’t gotten in a fight since grade school. Now, with the police at a standstill, Matt missing, and Nicole in danger, he didn’t know what to do. He looked at Sheryl, wondering if she sensed his inadequacies.
How could she not?
he thought. Quicksand could have been sucking him in for all the good he was doing. 

“What’cha thinking?” she asked, moving toward him. “Looks like smoke’s about to come out of your head.”

“This is getting complicated, and I’m not sure what to do. I’m worried about the Meetup tomorrow. If something happens around that discharge pipe, it could get ugly. Makes sense now why I’ve seen so many sharks around there. We have no idea where Nicole or Matt are, and the sheriff hasn’t even shown up yet.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “Any ideas?” 

A picture of kayakers and chum floating around the island formed in his mind. “If that sewer discharge is putting out whatever you want to call it and all those boats are floating around it might bring in sharks. Why don’t we cap it or something before the Meetup? It shouldn’t be a big deal to do that. I’ve got some lights, we can grab some gear and go now. I hate to even say it, but if Scarface is really going to do something bad to Nicole and Matt, that’s where he is going. He’s out of time.”