“Sin, your language,” her father said.
She rolled her eyes as she began pulling things from the fridge. She listened to their conversation as she made hamburger patties. “If one of you will start the grill, I will make us a salad,” she yelled.
She watched as Troy stepped out back and lit the gas grill.
She quickly made a salad and brought the plate of burgers and a bottle of beer outside. “Here,” she said, “make yourself useful and cook these while I set the table.”
Troy took the plate. “I thought you were making me lunch?”
Sin looked down at the plate. “I did. Now, if you want them cooked, that’s another story.”
Troy’s chest and shoulders rose and fell with laughter. “Always a ball buster,” he said.
“Yeah well, I remember how much you used to boast about your barbequing skills. It’s time to prove it.”
As she turned to walk back inside, she felt his eyes following her. She turned her head and glanced at him. “Stop undressing me with your eyes and start cooking.”
He laughed. “You do look good.”
She turned and walked into the house. “Damn right, I do.”
“That’s an understatement,” he mumbled.
“I heard that,” she said.
Thirty minutes later, the three of them sat at the picnic table on the porch to eat. Sin was about to take a big bite of her burger when her father cleared his throat.
“A lot has changed since you’ve been gone,” he said, “but, we still say grace before eating. That hasn’t changed.”
He spread his arms out to his side and had them hold hands as he offered a prayer of thanks.
After lunch, her father looked exhausted.
“Dad, why don’t you go rest while Troy and I clean up.”
He was slow to stand. Weaker than he was earlier. “I think I will,” he sighed. “That will give the two of you a chance to catch up.”
Troy stood and helped her father up the stairs to his room.
Sin watched as he walked by her father’s side. She noticed his genuine concern for her dad. Maybe people can change, she thought.
12
Troy joined Sin on the porch after he helped her dad to his room. He saw her watching the fishing fleet with her binoculars.
“See anything interesting,” he said.
“Lots,” she responded.
“Such as?”
Sin pointed to the fishing fleet. “I’m amazed at the amount of boats in the water off of the island. What’s your take on the Tumbleboat Fishing Company and Heap’s involvement?”
Troy cracked open another beer and handed one to Sin. “You don’t mess around, do you?”
“A product of military life, I guess.”
He waited for her to say more, but she put the bottle to her lips, drank, and stared at him.
“I haven’t been back here that long myself, but from what I’ve witnessed and from what everyone tells me, Heap is the primary owner of the company. You either abide by their charter or you don’t sell your catch.”
“And this is legal?”
Troy took another swig. “Afraid so,” he said.
Sin squinted and cocked her head to the side. “They get paid that well that they would sign away their independence? That doesn’t sound like the men I knew.”
“That’s where it gets a little fuzzy,” Troy answered. He joined her at the porch railing and leaned forward.
He noticed her gaze trail down to the tattoo on his right bicep—an orange and green U, the University of Miami insignia.
Troy overlooked it and kept talking. “When they first signed, they were being paid exorbitant prices. Over the past year, the price of their catch has steadily diminished.”
“And nobody has said anything?”
He looked in her direction, eyes squinting to keep the afternoon sun out. “They’re scared shitless, Sin.”
She was leaning over the rail which further emphasized her curves. Her hair was hanging free, partly covering her face.
“Damn, you look good.”
“Back off, Romeo and keep talking. That bullshit line would probably work on the rest of the women in the Keys, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
The right side of Troy’s lips curled up into a sly smile as he brought the bottle to his lips. “They figure some money is better than none.”
“There has to be more to it than that.”
“Joe Rattle, you remember him?”
Sin nodded.
“He said he wasn’t going to take being used and opted out of his agreement.”
“It’s nice to know someone still has a pair around here,” Sin interrupted.
“Yeah, well his pair cost him his boat and his house,” Troy said. “Word is he cut a deal with The Blue Oyster to privately sell his catch. Two weeks later the place burnt down from a grease fire.”
Sin looked back toward the boats. “Damn.”
“After that, no one would touch his catch. He ended up leaving and went to live with his daughter up in Tampa. No one has complained since then.”
“I don’t get it. As much as I hated this place, I remember these people as being levelheaded. How could they let someone like Heap take control of their lives?”
“That’s just it,” Troy emphasized. “They don’t think it’s Heap. They think it’s God.”
Troy’s words hit Sin hard. She stood ramrod straight and stared at him. “Come again. God?”
“Everyone in Tumbleboat believes that Heap is a prophet.”
Sin wiped her windblown hair from her eyes. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ with me?”
“Nope, and it’s just not the people on Tumbleboat. Hell, half of the citizens in the Lower Keys are members of his church.”
Sin’s eyes opened wide. “I would love to get a look at this church of his.”
Troy guzzled the rest of his bottle. “Finish that beer and I’ll show you Heap’s pride and joy.”
“The Church of the New Son.”
Troy placed his sunglasses on his head, drowning out the twinkle in his eyes. “That would be the one,” he said.
Outside, Sin went to straddle her bike. Troy squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s take mine.”
“Why?”
“Word on the street says that Heap hasn’t exactly warmed up to your ‘charms,’ and Bubba is the security guard at the entrance gate. We have a lot better chance getting on the grounds if we
