Just Different Devils (26 page)

We left for La Paz at first light the next morning.

Pablo, wrists and feet plastic tie-wrapped and up to his neck in the stinky black bag with squid parts for company, was chained into his blue panga, which we trailed behind us in hopes of keeping it downwind.

We called Chino, who told us Jan would not need surgery, and was being released from the hospital later that day. She was in for a few weeks of discomfort but would recover nicely.

I also talked with Nacho and told him we were inbound with the so-called PGR agent, Pablo, so he could meet us before we got to the dock, take Pablo into custody and give us time to beat feet out of town until given an all clear to return.

On the way back in, I told Jenks the whole sordid story of how a bunch of human devils framed the Red Devils while enriching themselves with ill-gotten gains.

"So, they made up the stories to make it look like a squid did it, and for good measure, threw in a tentacle or two as evidence."

"Yep. I feel sorry for that poor squid. It was killed for no reason and hacked up to leave as evidence."

"So, where are the pearls?"

"In the safe?"

"Not those pearls, Hetta. You showed me those. Where is the stash Agent Pablo was looking for?"

"If I tell you I'll have to kill you?"

He gave me that look. The one that reminded me that if I intended to continue life as a serial prevaricator, he was going to get fed up one day. I guess brandishing the occasional machine gun just isn't enough to keep up a man's interest.

"Okay, okay, they're in the freezer. There are three packages of frozen peas. Not peas, pearls."

"Uh-oh. Two."

"Two?"

"Afraid so. Just when Pablo showed up last night I was cooking dinner and dumped a bag of peas in boiling water. By the time I could get back to the galley the water was long gone and they were burned jet black."

"Jenks, they're black pearls!"

"How was I to know? I threw them overboard."

I could almost see my grandmother shaking her finger at me and quoting the Bible. "Hetta," she warned, "the truth will make you free. Someday your habit of avoiding truth by omission will have consequences."

Ya think?

We drove to Cabo San Lucas right after as we visited Jan in the hospital. She was being released that morning and she and Chino were headed back to Lopez Mateos where his Granny Yee could look after her. They took Po Thang with them so Jenks and I could enjoy the luxury of a fancy beach hotel while my knee healed, and Nacho mopped up the mess we'd left back in La Paz.

Javier had died of unknown causes while in custody.

Pablo was whisked away to heaven knows where by persons unknown.

Pelicano's
captain and crew were charged with illegal harvesting of pearls, which they admitted to. However, the location of any pearls they took was unknown.

Unknowns abound.

While languishing around the pool at the hotel I was tagged on Facebook with an article from a San Diego newspaper. Someone had made a spectacular flea market find: almost seven hundred natural black pearls were discovered in the bottom of a Mexican basket of fake fruit. A lucky vacationer, Topaz Sawyer, a Deputy Sheriff from Bisbee, Arizona, would be putting them up for auction in the near future, and experts estimated their value at well over a million dollars.

Mac and Johnnie will continue their circumnavigation soon, but first they plan to stop in San Diego and purchase a bigger boat.

The Mexican Tourist Bureau happily announced squid attack reports were the work of hoaxers, and the Sea of Cortez was perfectly safe for tourists.

Nacho, as always, stole away like the shadow he is, but had reportedly stopped in Bisbee, Arizona to visit my friend, and his reputed one-time fling partner, Topaz Sawyer.

Oh, and Freddie Clark, the missing sailor from
Carpe Diem ?
Seems he, too, tried to really sieze the day by cashing in on the Red Devil attack stories by staging his own death. He was spotted in a bar in Puerto Vallarta. Word has it the IRS and an estranged wife are very interested in talking with him.

Chino generously offered to split his windfall three ways with Jan and me, and plans to spend his part on studies of the giant Humboldt squid, hopefully to remove the stigma of being called Red Devils.

Back on
Raymond Johnson
after two weeks living in the very lap of luxury while the bad guys were bagged and tagged, I was greeted by a petulant pooch, who was returned that morning by one of Chino's cousins.

Po Thang sat on the back of the boat for days, gazing longingly out to sea for his friend, Bubbles, but she never returned. We hope she's fallen in love with someone with fins.

Jenks and I joined the crestfallen Po Thang on the back deck one evening to offer ear scratches, chicken bits, and advice for lovelorn pooches. Kevin and Karen, the cruising couple we'd seen at Partida, walked by with their Poodle, Puddles.

Puddles raised a half-hearted tail wag from the dejected Po Thang—I guess once you stray from the reservation it's hard to get back to your own species—as they nosed each other.

I introduced Jenks.

The couple exchanged a look. "You know, you look so much more Scandinavian than that other Jenks Hetta had on board. See ya."

They walked away, leaving Po Thang whining and me wincing.

Hooboy. Once again, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, with some 'splainin' to do.

I opened my mouth to do just that, but Jenks held his palm out in a "don't even bother" gesture. "Hetta, I've been thinking about something."

Oh, dear. Once again I opened my mouth and he repeated the
just
stop
hand.

Then he smiled. "I don't think you and Jan had to worry about being devoured by those giant squid. You're Texans. They'd probably think you were too hard to clean."

THE END

If you have enjoyed this book, please tell your friends about Hetta, or post a short review on Amazon. Word of mouth is an author's best friend, and is much appreciated.

I have editors, but boo-boos do manage to creep into a book, no matter how many people look at it before publication, and if there are errors, they are all on me. Should you come upon one of these culprits, please let me know and I shall smite it with my mighty keyboard! You can e-mail me at [email protected]

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Oh, and no sea life was actually harmed in the writing of this book.

Just Different Devils

Published by Jinx Schwartz

Copyright 2015

Book 7: Hetta Coffey series

All rights reserved.

The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to persons, whether living or dead, is strictly coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning to a computer disk, or by any informational storage and retrieval system, without express permission in writing from the publisher.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

As always, my first reader and hubby Robert "Mad Dog" Schwartz, is my rock. His patient tackling of techie stuff that makes me scream at my computer is priceless. Maybe I should give him a raise?

Holly Whitman has been the editor of every one of my books, and she keeps me out of the ditch when my story heads there. The last eyes on the book before I hit the "publish" button, are Donna Rich's.  Thanks Holly and Donna.

I have some amazing beta readers! And here they are, in no particular order: Karen Kearns, Sara F. Howe, Lela Cargill, Bonnie Julien, William Jones, Carolyn Bowman, Mary Jordan,  Dan O'Neill, Jeff Brockman, Stephen Brown, Jenni Cornell, and Dottie Atwater.