“You mind standing by for a few minutes?”
“Gonna go kick the hornet’s nest?”
“Hopefully just get info.” I shrugged. “But maybe. I’ve been known to kick a nest from time to time.”
Ange laughed as I turned and stepped off the pathway. I crept around to the other side of the building, carefully avoiding piles of junk and debris. I came upon a small storage shed and an upside-down boat with a dinner-plate-sized gash in its hull.
Even passing twenty feet away from the bathroom, I had to cover my nose. The nasty aroma was so rank that it made low tide smell like the perfume section at a department store. Beside the bathroom were the showers, which were just as gross, the walls covered in grime.
Quietly, I heaved myself up onto the shed, then paused and listened. Up on the second floor, I could hear voices coming from a cracked-open window. I looked around, then climbed up, careful not to slip on the wet surfaces.
I got my footing on the lower section of roof, then rose up and peeked through the window. Casper and Skinny were standing in the middle of a room with a red shag carpet, old torn-up furniture, and a deep television. There was a fan humming and rotating in the corner, but I was still able to catch what they were saying.
“We ran into a little trouble, Deke,” Shorty said into a phone. “Not us, but Jake. He call you yet?”
Deke? It didn’t take a stretch to assume that this was their head honcho himself. Deacon Lynch.
Casper bit his lip and shook his head as he listened.
“No,” a voice barked through the speaker. “That loose cannon hasn’t called me since this morning.”
“Well, apparently they had a run-in with a local,” Skinny continued.
“What do you mean, they had a run-in?”
“Jake said he was suspicious about a boat in a channel south of where we were searching. He said that a guy and his friends showed up and got in their faces. Then Jake scared them off.”
Scared us off? I thought with a grin. I think somebody remembered it wrong.
“If he scared them off,” Lynch said, “how are they a problem?”
“Jake said they might come back,” Skinny explained. “Said they were trouble. Said they were in the area on account of the murder.”
Lynch paused. I could hear the guy fuming through the small speaker.
“But they weren’t cops,” Skinny said. “Just locals. Friends of the guy who got killed, probably.”
Lynch paused.
“I don’t like this,” he finally said through the speaker. “If these locals manage to figure out who we are and what we’re looking for, it’s going to mean trouble. Call Jake and tell him that if he sees them again, he needs to finish them off and toss them to the sharks instead of just scaring them. In the meantime, the sooner we find this treasure, the better.”
“If it’s even there, that is,” Skinny said.
“The treasure is there, Tuck,” he barked. “And if you don’t believe in our organization’s aim, then you’re no longer of any use to me. I’ll feed your ass to the gators in a heartbeat.
“Now,” Lynch added, “find me that treasure. I don’t want to see your pale face again until it’s in your possession.”
The line went dead. Skinny hesitated, then dialed another number.
“If you see this local again, Jake,” he said, “Deke gave explicit orders to deal with him and his friends swiftly and without mercy. Just don’t leave any evidence. Nothing left of them, you hear?”
Don’t worry, Jake. You’ll see us again. We’ll come to you.
“Tell Deke the guy’s as good as dead,” Jake said. “And get your lazy ass back here with food. We’re finding this thing tonight.”
Skinny hung up and pocketed his phone. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds, then Skinny picked at something in his teeth.
“I don’t like this,” Casper said. “This was supposed to be quick and easy. No hiccups.”
Skinny strode over and patted the younger man on the chest.
“Don’t worry, Casp. We’ll find it and you’ll get paid. Hell, you might even get enough to flee this pigsty.”
As they turned for the door, my foot slipped on the wet metal roof. It made a high-pitched sliding noise, and I dropped a few inches before catching and stabilizing myself. Peeking back through the window, I saw that Skinny had stopped in his tracks. He turned around, then strode straight toward me.
“What was that?” Casper growled.
Skinny laughed. “This dump creaks and groans like hell. The place wants to die. Hell, it’s probably a rat or a coon.”
“That wasn’t no rat.”
Shit.
My heart rate picked up as I dropped down. Listening intently, I heard Skinny’s footsteps as he moved across the room. I looked around, but there was no quick way to disappear from view, at least not without making more noise.
I pressed my body against the wall and decided. Given the options of fight or flight, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d chosen flight.
Skinny pushed open the window and leaned out.
“See?” he said, his head still tilted back to look at Casper. “There’s nothi—”
His eyes sprang wide when he turned forward and saw me, and he reached for the pistol holstered to his belt.
I smashed my right fist into his throat, then gripped his shirt collar and slammed his head into the windowsill. Pulling myself up into the room, I spotted Casper lunging for a shotgun on the table. I slid my dive knife from its sheath and threw it across the room. It caught him midstride in his leading leg. He yelled in pain as the sharp titanium tip struck home. The moment he put weight on the injured leg, it buckled, and he collapsed to the shag-carpeted
