ESCAPE FROM AMBERGRIS CAYE (4 page)

BOOK: ESCAPE FROM AMBERGRIS CAYE
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Chapter 11

 

Jackson had managed to land a spot to the far left
of his preferred position when Izzie pushed her way through the gaggle of
reporters and photogs. Generally unflappable, she appeared nervous, her hair
less than perfect, her face an odd shade of red.

“Hey,” she said.

Jackson glanced up from the camera and nodded.
Because of Izzie his tape would no doubt be subpar. And who’d catch flak for
it? Not her for damned sure. He took a deep breath, muttered “
S’up
?” and turned his attention back to the camera.

“Sorry. You have a lousy position because of me.”

Izzie never apologized for anything—ever, even
when she made an obvious blunder. She always—always turned things around to
make it appear as though the mistake was her photographer’s fault—in this case,
Jackson’s. So when the word, “sorry” dribbled from her mouth, however softly,
he had a hard time suppressing his surprise.

“No problem,” he said, as though arriving
forty-five minutes late for an assignment was an everyday occurrence. He was
about to ask what happened, when the news conference began. Izzie and her
excuse would have to wait.

Half an hour later on their way to the next
shoot, Jackson addressed the issue.

“So, what happened this morning? You oversleep?”

“Uh, nothing, it was nothing.”

Her expression said it was a whole lot more than
nothing, but if she didn’t want to talk about something there was no use trying
to pry it from her. He tried another tack. “Morrie give you hell?”

She nodded. “You could say that.”

“What’d he say?” Jackson knew it was none of his
business, but curiosity got the better of him.

“He called me into his office and said if I
pulled another stunt like that, not to bother showing up again—period, that I’d
be canned.”  

Jackson knew his boss was something of a
hardass
, but that seemed harsh even for him.

“He really said you’d be canned?”

“Not his exact words, but his meaning was clear.
Man, he doesn’t mess around, does he?”

“Guess not. I’d prefer not finding out.”

He turned his attention to the latest disaster he
had to film. A sinkhole had swallowed a house. Fortunately the family wasn’t
home at the time. Still, all their possessions had disappeared. From the looks
of it, they weren’t very well off to begin with. Having to witness so much
misery was beginning to get to him.

Afterward, in an effort to get his mind off that
newly homeless family, Jackson asked Izzie if she got his email.

“What email?” she said.

“The one telling you to stay away from where we
spotted that girl on the balcony.”

“And who put you in charge all of a sudden?”
Izzie barked, “Since when do I need your permission to check something out if I
feel like it?”

“It’s not that, Izzie, but when you said the man
spotted you, well, I was concerned, that’s all.”

Izzie turned in the seat to face him. “So you’re
all concerned about me, are
ya
? Well, I don’t need your
so-called concern or your protection neither. I’m a grown woman. I can take
care of myself. If I want to do a little investigative reporting on my own
time, I’ll bloody well do it whether you like it or not. Got it?”

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do.”
Jackson’s heart drummed in his ears. “It’s just that I’ve been reading about
human trafficking and…”

“Human trafficking again? That’s what got your
shorts in a bunch? God, Jackson, get real. This is Tampa, Florida not Malaysia
or Thailand. Women here aren’t trying to leave the country or escape poverty by
falling for whatever dumb story some guy tells them.” As she spoke, she became
more animated, her eyebrows raising and lowering, emphasizing each point she
made.

“I know. That’s what I thought too till I started
looking into it. Izzie, according to a report by the National Human Trafficking
Center, it’s happening all over the world—including in the United States. It’s
going on right in front of us, and we don’t realize it.”

The skeptical look on Izzie’s face said it all.
She didn’t believe a word he said. “You always blow things out of proportion.
Babe, you need to get a life. Find a girlfriend. Go bowling. Do whatever you
want, but stop seeing bogeymen behind every tree. Or at least don’t keep trying
to ‘save’ me. It’s exhausting.” 

Jackson lifted his hands from the steering wheel
in surrender. “I got the message,
Iz
, what you do on
your own time is your business. I’ll stay the hell out of it. You want to get
yourself in trouble, have at it. Just don’t say you weren’t warned.” With that
he pulled into the parking lot, grabbed his gear and walked away, leaving her
to follow in his wake.

Chapter 12

 

Leon opened the back door and let Tiny out. That
was another reason he hadn’t wanted a dog. The mutt had to go out several times
a day. And remembering was a royal pain in the ass. If he waited too long or
was away taking care of business, the damned thing pooped in the house. One
time, Leon even stepped in it. Almost beat the dog to death for that. They’d
both learned something that day: Leon remembered to let him out and Tiny held
it until he did.

The house was quiet now. Jennifer was gone.
Seymour’s client picked her up Friday night. The transaction had gone down
smoothly enough despite the unpleasant scene: she’d kicked and screamed, begged
him to let her stay. Little bitch even bit the client when he tried to take
her. In the end, they’d shot her up with drugs. That calmed her down long
enough for them to get her out of the house.

Yes, it was quiet now, a little too quiet for
Leon’s taste. Well, not for long.
Seymour’d
be
sending another shipment soon. In the meantime, he had some rare free time.
Maybe he’d go to Clearwater Beach for some well-earned R&R. Pick up a chick
or two.

How about the one he’d noticed hanging around the
other day? A real looker she was. Reminded him of somebody, but he couldn’t put
his finger on exactly who. He’d waved at her from the balcony and invited her
to go for a drink. She’d declined, but gave him a flirty smile, then turned and
left, her hips in those tight jeans swaying in the most inviting fashion. He
told himself she wanted
him, that
she was playing hard
to get. She’d be back, oh yeah. And when she came, he’d be waiting. He had all
the time in the world.

Chapter 13

 

Hi Mom.
Jackson’s fingers clicked rapidly
over the computer keyboard. He much preferred texting, but she hadn’t managed
to get the hang of it so he was left to either call or email. With his limited
resources, email was cheaper. Besides, he kind of liked getting his thoughts
out with no interruption. It had only been a few hours since he and Izzie had
had “words” and he was still smarting from her retort.

How’re you and Dad
doing? Is he feeling better? I know it’s hard on you when he’s sick—he can be such
a baby. Not that me or
Zac’re
any better. Truth is,
you’re the strongest member of the Taylor family, whether we want to admit it
or not.

Life in Florida’s pretty
good though I’m still getting used to it. Tampa’s beautiful, but the traffic is
bad. I can’t wait till you guys come for a visit. There’s so much to do and
see. I know money’s tight so it’ll have to wait, still it’s something to look
forward to.

The job is everything
I’d hoped and more. I love being a news photographer. You get to see and do exciting
things most every day. When I was in school, I never thought someone would
actually hire me. It seemed so impossible, like trying to become a movie
star—something you dream about, but never really think will happen. And now,
here I am. Mom, I know you worry about me, but I’m fine, really. Eating
good
. Doing my laundry. Even keeping my apartment clean.”

Jackson stopped typing and
glanced around his filthy apartment. Only this morning he’d taken the trash
out, so it wasn’t a total lie. He’d do the laundry tomorrow.

Right now my only
problem is my reporter, Izzie. I’ve told you about her: pretty girl, a year out
of college; thinks she knows it all. Comes from money so she thinks she’s entitled.
Never, ever admits she’s wrong or realizes her partner’s a professional too. It
can be frustrating. Most times I just write it off to her being young and
stupid. But lately it’s getting a whole lot harder to do that—especially when
she does things that could get her in trouble.

Like today, for
instance, I found out she’s hanging around an apartment where I suspect a young
girl may be a trafficking victim. Since I have no proof, there isn’t anything I
can do about it and reporting it to the police will alert the trafficker that
someone’s on to him. I planned to keep my eye on the place. Then I found out
Izzie was doing the same thing, but that the guy spotted her. When I found out,
I told her to be careful, that if the guy is, in fact, involved in trafficking,
she’s putting herself in danger.

I only told her that
because I genuinely care what happens to her. You know what she said? ‘Mind
your own business. Who are you to tell me what to do? I’m a grown woman and can
take care of myself. I don’t need you to protect me.’ Or something to that
effect.

I wasn’t trying to boss
her around or anything. But she’s a beautiful young woman, just the kind a
trafficker would love to get his hands on. She thinks I’m making it up when I tell
her what I’ve read about human trafficking going on all over the country,
including here in Tampa. Mom, right now I feel like if something happens to
her, it’ll serve her right. On the other hand, I hope it doesn’t and I’m
probably overreacting because of everything I’ve read.

You always said I had an
active imagination and that’s probably what makes me a good news photographer.
I see beyond the obvious. But that can also be a two-edged sword, getting me in
trouble. Plus people don’t take me seriously because they think I overreact,
which I admit I sometimes do.

Then something comes
along like this and my own partner refuses to listen. I guess I have no choice
but to wash my hands of the whole thing and let whatever happens, happen.

Well, it’s getting late
and I’ve had a hard day. Say hey to Zac and Dad for me. 

Love,
Jackson

Chapter 14

 

My dear darling boy. I’m
glad to hear you love your job. We’re all proud of you. Every time I go to the
store, people ask how you’re doing. I know it’s a sin, but I swell up with
pride when I see the envy in their faces. I know it’s nothing I’ve done, that
you worked hard to be where you are, but I just can’t help myself. Now, if only
your brother would stop smoking marijuana and finish his education, your father
and I could stop worrying and rest easy. I guess I should be grateful at least
one of my boys has turned out so well.

Your father’s ailing,
but try not to worry about it. I’m sure he’ll pull out of it as he’s done in
the past. It’s just that the drinking has affected his liver, and I doubt he
can get a transplant. I don’t think they put people with drinking problems on
the list unless they can prove they’ve stopped and he hasn’t, so we’ll have to
wait and see.

I don’t want you to
worry, dear boy, there’s nothing you can do except pray. You could do that.
There’s nothing more powerful than prayer, you know. So, throw some your
father’s way.

As far as that girl’s
concerned, in a way, she’s right. She’s a grown woman and if she wants to put
herself in a dangerous situation, that’s her business. It’s really stupid of
her not to listen to you, but there it is.

It’s like your brother.
If he’s determined to throw his life away by smoking and laying around instead
of getting out there and making something of himself, all the nagging in the
world won’t change a thing. He’s got to make up his own mind.

Same thing with Izzie.
Don’t waste your time fretting over a girl who thinks she’s better than you,
just because her daddy’s rich. As far as I’m concerned you’re head and
shoulders better than anyone I know, and I’m not saying that because you’re my
son. It’s the truth.

Love, Mom

 

Amanda Taylor closed the notebook computer and
leaned back in her chair. Writing to her youngest still seemed odd, despite the
fact he’d been in Tampa over a year. Tears came to her eyes. Her throat
constricted as she held back the pain. She missed him, even if she didn’t want
to admit it. Life wasn’t the same without Jackson around. She could still hear
echoes of her boys around the house. Sometimes she thought if she looked fast
enough, they’d still be there—tussling or arguing over something.

She so wished she could have those days back—have
a do-over, as kids would say. She’d made mistakes despite her best efforts, but
it was too late: They were grown up and way past needing her. Jackson was
pursuing his dream in Tampa and Zac, well, he was—what could she say about her
eldest son? That he was trying to find himself? She shrugged. How many years
does it take to find oneself? It didn’t appear to her that he was looking very
hard. At the moment, the only thing he seemed to be pursuing was his next
drink, another drag on a marijuana cigarette, or some girl.

Then there was Dan. How long could he hold on
until his liver gave out altogether? Every day he seemed to look more
jaundiced. The doctor had pretty much given up trying to make him stop
drinking, said it was only a matter of time; that there was nothing anyone
could do to help him since he was unable—or unwilling to help himself.

She sighed. Sometimes life could be so cruel.

BOOK: ESCAPE FROM AMBERGRIS CAYE
13.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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