Jock and I walked down the dock toward the fueling point. Logan finished the fueling just as we reached him. He put the hose away and turned to greet us.
I stuck out my hand. 'How was your trip, Captain?'
Logan grinned. 'Smooth as glass. I made it in less than seven hours. How're you doing, Jock?'
'Good, Logan. I do believe you've gotten me into a mess, though. Did my man meet you this morning?'
'He did. I think he may have knocked over the National Guard Armory on his way to Moore's. I've got more weapons aboard than I've seen since I left Vietnam.'
Jock laughed. 'Better to be overarmed than underarmed.'
I said, 'Let's get some lunch and some rest before we head back to Key West. We've got a big night ahead of us.'
We ordered lunch and a bag of sandwiches to go. That would serve as our dinner that evening before we launched onto Blood Island. It was going to be a long day.
I brought Logan up to date over lunch, telling him everything I knew. When we finished, I walked out onto the patio and called Jeff Timmons.
'Any news?' I asked.
'Not a word, Matt. I'm worried sick. She's been gone four days.'
'I don't know what to say, Jeff. Has there been any activity on her credit cards, bank account, anything?'
'Nothing. Have you found out anything about Peggy?'
'Maybe. I'll know a lot more tomorrow.' I didn't want to give the man any false hope. We had a dicey night ahead of us, and a lot of things could go wrong. 'I'll call you tomorrow,' I said, and closed my phone.
I turned to find jock and Logan standing behind me. 'Nothing on Laura?' Jock asked.
'No. This doesn't make any sense at all. I don't think her disappearance is connected to Peggy's, but it is one odd coincidence.'
'And you don't like coincidences,' said Logan.
I nodded my head, and we walked to the boat. We paid the fuel bill and boarded Recess. Logan hadn't been kidding. The cabin held three M-16 rifles with several extra clips, three shotguns, an M60 machine gun and tripod, a rocket-propelled grenade launcher, and a large box of assorted gear.
'You expecting a war, Jock?' I asked.
'You never know.'
'Damn,' said Logan. 'I hope not. I hadn't seen an M-16 since Vietnam. When that guy loaded them aboard, I told him I thought I'd go back to helicopters. Damned if he didn't bring out the M60. Our door gunners used those.'
Logan had been a helicopter pilot in Vietnam, but before he went to flight school, he'd been an infantryman, like me.
We motored out of the marina, under the Seven Mile Bridge and around to Boot Key Harbor on the ocean side of Vaca Key. We dropped anchor, opened the hatches and turned on the fans in the cabin.
There was just enough room in the small cabin for the three of us to sleep. We secured the boat, and took a nap.
CHAPTER FORTY
Hawk Channel runs in a generally westerly direction along the ocean side of the Keys. It is well marked and bordered on one side by the Keys themselves, and on the other by reefs.
At six o'clock, we weighed anchor and headed into Hawk Channel for the two hour run to our first destination. Sand Key lies just outside the Key West harbor on the Atlantic side. It's a popular dive spot, and on any given evening, there would be a number of boats anchored over the reef that surrounds the area. We'd be able to wait there until midnight, when we'd start our trip to Blood Island.
The run along the Hawk Channel was pleasant, the sea calm, the sunshine bright. Jock spent the trip taking the sun on the fold-down seat in the aft cockpit. Logan helped me navigate and groused good-naturedly about the lack of Scotch on board.
We arrived at Sand Key just as the setting sun painted the sea in red and orange. A slight wind was blowing from the Atlantic, just enough to cool us down without causing the sea to kick up. We spent the next three hours checking weapons and discussing a plan of attack.
We were eating our sandwiches when my phone rang. Jeff Timmons.
'Matt, I just got a call from the police. Laura's in a hospital. I'm on my way there now, but I wanted you to know. '
'How bad?'
'She's fine, I think. Thank God. She's been in a coma, and they couldn't identify her. She's awake now. Turns out her fingerprints aren't on file anywhere, and the Atlanta cops didn't make the connection between Laura and die woman in the hospital.'
I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt like I'd been holding my breath since I heard that she had disappeared. 'That's great, Jeff. What happened?'
'She went out for a walk and fainted. She apparently hit her head on a curb and was knocked unconscious. Somebody called an ambulance and they took her in. When she came to, she told them who she was. I'm on my way to the hospital now.'
'Is she going to be all right?'
'I think so. She's awake and lucid. I'll let you know as soon as I know something more.'
'I'll be out-of-pocket tonight, Jeff. I'll call you in the morning.'
A sense of relief swept through me. The dream wasn't an omen. She was alive and well and would probably be her old self soon. I'd get Peggy back to her, and her life would pick up where it had stopped dead with Peggy's disappearance. I would lose Laura again, but I had no claim to her. She had loved me, and I had driven her away. She'd found happiness with a good man, and that was more important to me than having her back. Hell, I'd probably just disappoint her again, and she deserved better. And now, after all these years, we'd be friends again. She would be just a phone call away, and I'd have to be satisfied with that. It was more than I'd had for the past ten years, and it would have to be enough. Love, I think, the real kind, the bone-deep, tissue-pervading emotion that perhaps only comes along once in a lifetime, is controllable, if the object of that love is happy. Even if her happiness includes me only on the periphery of her life.
At midnight, we were in the Boca Grande Channel, engines idling. We were west of Blood Island, looking for the tall tree Abraham Osceola had told me about.
Jock was rummaging around in the box of equipment brought aboard at Moore's. He handed me a pair of night-vision goggles. 'Here. Try these.'
I put them on, and the night turned green. There was no moon, but the sky was blanketed with stars. I saw the tree, and using my handheld compass, took a bearing. 'We're not quite there,' I said. 'Logan, move us a little more to the north.'
In a few minutes I could see the tree Abraham had told me about. 'We should be at the entrance to the channel. Let's take her in quietly.'
Logan made the turn and lined up on the tree. The depth sounder was reading fifteen feet all the way in. As we got closer, I could see a small opening in die dense mangroves that lined the island. I pointed it out to Logan, and he steered for it.
'Bottoms coming up,' Logan said. 'Five feet.'
The boat could handle two feet, so we had a little leeway.
'Tides coming in.' I said, 'I'd rather be a little shallow than too deep. It'll be deeper when we come back.'
The bow of the boat nosed into sand, and we stopped. The depth sounder was on the transom, so it would give us a reading at the stern. 'What's your depth?' I asked.
'Three feet,' said Logan.
