Damaged (Maggie O'Dell #8)

Maggie stared at her a moment. Liz knew she could see her concern.

“Any idea where Black’s from? Or where he might be headed?” Maggie asked Howard.

He glanced from Maggie to Liz and back to Maggie. Howard could see it, too. “That might be an issue of privacy. Without a warrant I don’t think I can give you his address in Jacksonville.” Then he waved at an impatient customer. “Excuse me, ladies.”

Liz leaned closer to Maggie, keeping her back to the crowded shop. “Dad said he didn’t think Joe Black was his real name.”

“No,” Maggie said, much too calmly. “I don’t think it’s his real name, either.”

“Do you think he’s the owner of the cooler we found in the Gulf?”

“Yes,” she said with certainty.

“Is my dad in danger?”

“He may have just helped Black load his boat. He could be helping someone else right now.”

Liz glanced out the shop window. Her dad was in great physical shape for his age. He could handle himself. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions. He probably was off helping someone else. He had been in the navy for more than thirty-five years. He knew a thing or two about securing boats.

The wind came in a sudden blast, bending palm trees and upending anything that wasn’t weighted down. Buckets and empty gas cans skidded across the pier. The glass in the windows rattled. The entire shop went silent so when the rain started it sounded like stones pelting the outside walls.

The door banged open. Kesnick, wearing a bright-yellow poncho, found Liz.

“Hey Bailey, we gotta go.”

He handed the women identical ponchos still folded up in neat squares. Liz reminded herself that Maggie hadn’t experienced anything like this.

“We’re going up in this?” The calm was gone, replaced by anxiety.

“It’s just the outer bands,” Liz told her. “It’ll calm down again in a few minutes. We’ll have about six to ten hours of this, on and off. It’ll quit as suddenly as it started. The intensity and length of time will increase with each round.”

She thought Maggie looked a shade paler and Liz added, “I’ve got more of the ground-ginger capsules in my medic pack.”

Liz searched for Howard on their way out. Hated to take him away from a paying customer but he sensed her tension, and he didn’t even wait for her question. Instead he said, “I’ll take care of him if I find him. And don’t worry about the canteen.”





CHAPTER 57





The boat rolled from side to side, throwing Walter against the inside walls of the cabin. Joe Black had hog-tied Walter’s hands and feet with a braided rope and left him to slide and knock against the wood panels. The tuna bag lay between him and the steps going up to the cockpit.

He tried to watch the bag, though he had to twist and look over his shoulder to see it. He couldn’t turn himself around with the boat heaving him every time he made an attempt. But Walter was sure something, or rather someone, was in the bag. There had been what sounded like groans early on. Not anymore.

“How you doing, Walter?” Joe had to yell to be heard over the engine.

He poked his head down to take a peek. Walter could see only a corner of his forehead. He knew the kid didn’t dare leave the cockpit. He’d have to stay put and keep his hands on the controls. From the increased tilt and raise of the boat, Walter could tell the waves were cresting even more violently. Soon it wouldn’t matter how Joe steered.

He heard a crackle of static and then Joe’s voice boomed through a box on the wall, just over Walter’s head.

“Hey, Walter. I know you can’t hit the response button but I just wanted to explain some stuff to you. It’s nothing personal. It’s just business.”

Walter jerked onto his side to take a better look at the box on the wall about three feet above him. Was it an intercom or a radio? Light came in only through the portholes, which were being pummeled by waves. It was too dark for him to tell. He scooted against the wall, trying to gain leverage just as the boat lurched and threw him to the other side of the boat, knocking his head against the wall. It was enough for him to see shooting stars.

“Everything I told you, Walter, was true.” Joe’s voice came through the wall. “You know, about my dad. He was in the navy. Loved it. Even though they weren’t so good to him. He didn’t get this boat until he found out he was sick. Waited too long to enjoy life. Always said he couldn’t afford it.”