Sandhurst: Meeting the folks 3
Dino closed his phone. Per Terry’s instructions he’d been in contact with their off-shore bank and he suspected the money was out there in cyberspace floating toward Sandhurst Bank. He left Terry’s compound in the tricked out golf cart, an easy way to travel around on the island. He drove down toward the canal and noticed something different. A close inspection and it turned out to be a wooden boat, half submerged and painted red.
He thought it might belong to Robin Longstride so he drove along the canal to the end of the island and hit the beach, following it around to Longstride’s domain.
He got past the barking dogs and honking geese. It was for sure no one was going to arrive unannounced.
Mary was on the path with her arms crossed and a trowel in her hand. “Hello, Dino.”
“Hey, Mary. You haven’t buried him, have ya?”
She laughed, “No, at least not yet. The body’s still warm. He’s in the work shed and he’s armed.” She smiled as Dino gave her a wave and headed for the back gardens.
Mary and Robin had secretly married nine years ago. She still went by her maiden name of Mary Copley. They’d known each other for fifteen years now. They were friends first and then lovers. She followed him from Jacksonville up the coast to the island where they settled. She was a writer of cookbooks and an avid gardener, believing in natural foods organically grown. She ate little meat but prepared it for Robin.
He was an artist, worked by commission and was getting ready to do some work on a restaurant in Sandhurst. Ivey’s it was named and it called for a mural done with tiles and mirror fragments and bits of stone and shell.
Robin was very carefully breaking up tiles with a rubber mallet. He had boxes of various colors set about. “Dino, what brings you around?” Whack, and the tile broke into four pieces.
“I found a boat half submerged on the canal. Wooden and painted red. I thought it might be one of yours.”
“No red boats here. You might check over at the marina and see if anything is amiss.”
“Yeah, I will. It being red we would have noticed it if it had been there this morning. Who’s over there, do ya know?”
“No, I don’t know. Charlie was there a few days ago. Could be anybody now.”
“I’ll run over there. See ya, Robin.”
“Be well,” Robin replied…whack and another tile split. Robin wass a Yorkshireman from England. He’d been over in this country for about 20 years but still had his accent. He’d been many things in his life and now only wanted peace and solitude and Mary. However his beliefs and personal creed got him in trouble sometimes and in the limelight, which he hated.
“Take care ,Mary!” Dino called out as he passed her gardens.
“Wait a minute!” She ran out to the path with a basket. “Fresh veggies.”
“Oh, thanks. That’s nice.”
He drove his jeep over the bridge to the mainland and up the road to the marina. It didn’t take him long to spot Jack Aubrey, who was leaning in the window of a blue pick-up truck.
“It’s okay, not a problem.”
Georgia looked into his eyes. “I just wanted you to hear it from me first.”
“I’ll deal with it when I get home. Where are you headed now?”
She shrugged, “Back to the farm.”
“Let me buy you lunch. You haven’t eaten, have you?”
“No.”
“Give me a minute and…oh, hello, Dino.”
“Jack.” He nodded to the woman in the truck. “I found a red wooden boat washed up on the canal side of the island. It’s not Longstride’s so I thought I’d check with you.”
“No one has reported a boat missing or sunk that I know of. I will inquire.”
“Good enough. I’ve done my bit. I’ll pull it out of the water.”
“Perhaps you should not touch it. Could be a matter of some mischief.”
“That’s true. All right, see ya, Jack.”
Jack turned back to the woman. “Did we say yes?”
She smiled a little. “Yes.”
He left the window of the truck and went back inside his office. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting. Georgia Mayes was 29 years old and had lived at the farm Jack now owned as the live-in girl friend of William Gentry for six years. William was a sailor, out of the navy but still out there on the water every day fishing. He’d inherited a sum of money and bought the farm while he was still in the navy. A chance meeting with Jack Aubrey in Portsmouth led to a close friendship. When the cancer was found in his bowels it was Jack he contacted and who came to see him. As long as he was able they fished together during the mornings and when he became too ill and was hospitalized William spoke to him about the farm.
Jack bought it and William was able to pay off his debts to the bank in Savannah and the credit cards he’d used that winter. He'd died five years ago. Jack went back to England to clear up his own debts then came back to the farm he’d bought.
Georgia had remained there tending and overseeing her plants in the greenhouses. When she heard he was returning, she moved her things to one of the small cottages on the property. The cottage was actually part of the old slave quarters that had been renovated for guests or employees as needed.
There followed an awkward time for Jack and Georgia. He offered her anything she wanted, any comfort she might need. He even took to spending his nights down at the marina where his boat was docked. She was young, vulnerable and sad and he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Gradually they found their place with each other. But that 'like' life in general was moving on to a different plane.
Sandhurst: Meeting the Folks 4
“Hey, Dino, what’s up?” Terry put the finishing touches on an email.
“Did you notice a boat washed up this morning before you left?”
“Boat? No, mate, I didn’t. Where is it?”
“Banging against the fishing pier. I left it alone. It doesn’t belong to anybody we know. It’s partially submerged…red wooden boat.”
“Wooden boat? Like an old classic?”
“Nothing fancy about it but, yeah, they don’t make them like that anymore and you don’t see them down here much.”
“Did you scout around and make sure somebody wasn’t washed up along with it?”
“Yeah, I rode along the path all the way to the beaches. Could have come from the mainland, from Sandhurst.”
“Could have come from Savannah or anywhere for that matter. You’re okay with what we’re doing here, right?”
“Oh, yeah, Terry. I think it’s the right thing to do. We’ll either recoup or we won’t but if it keeps a bloke alive.”
“Um, yeah, well, we will soon find out.”
Terry Thorne and his partner, Dino O’Brien, were running a kidnap and ransom business. Not that they were kidnappers. They were the rescue side of the business. Both men were former special forces operatives, Terry with the SAS in the British Army and Dino with the Marines out of Parris Island. They’d worked together all over the world for a company that was no longer in business then started their own four years ago and due to Dino’s connections in the area found the town of Sandhurst, a small town on the up and up.
“Had lunch yet?”
“No, what are you in the mood for?” Terry shut down his computer.
“A big greasy cheeseburger with a side order of fat greasy, salty fries. Oh, and a dill pickle spear.”
“The diner.” Terry stood up and patted his flat stomach.
They walked across the street and into the 50’s diner. Sheriff Biebe turned from the counter to see who had walked in.
“Hey, Thorne, Dino.”
“John, how are ya?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Don’t blame ya,” Dino grinned.
“Bloody hell, Biebe.”
“It’s not all for me. Fuckin’ skinhead in jail’s gotta eat.”
“You feed your prisoners?” Terry raised his brows and looked at Dino.
“Waste of taxpayer money unless you’re doing it on your own, buying his groceries.”
“It’s the law. I can’t starve the son of a bitch though I’d like to. Thanks, Janie.” He paid for the large bag of food.
“Oh, John, Dino here says there’s a boat possibly capsized or partially submerged banging against our fishing pier. It doesn’t appear to belong to anybody we know or anyone at the marina.”
“I didn’t touch it,” Dino added.
“Oh, yeah? I’ll get on the horn and see if there’s anything on the wires about it.”
“I was thinking you might want to ride out there and have a look.”
“As soon as I get somebody to babysit the fucker in jail, I’ll do that.” John gave him a look and started for the door.
“Dino here can babysit…”
“Terry, shut the fuck up.”
“It’s all right. Ross will be by later.” John pushed the door open with his shoulder and spilled out onto the sidewalk.
“What’s wrong with the sheriff?” Dino asked.
“Overworked and underpaid. He doesn’t have a deputy. He’s acting sheriff, not the real thing until the election. Then if he wins he can staff his police department.”
John looked up and down the streets to see if he could locate Alex Ross anywhere but no luck. Ross often helped him out and got a story for his efforts. As he walked down the street his cell phone went off. It was his wife, Donna.”
“Hey, what is it?”
“Are you coming or not?”
“Coming where?”
“To the school. Michael's play.”
“Oh, shit! No, I can’t make it.”
“That’s what I figured.” She hung up on him.
“Donna?” He closed his phone and pocketed it. That was all he needed today. She knew what kind of situation he was in here and she was pushing all his buttons. They hardly saw each other from day to day and when they did they argued about not having any time together.
“What kind of shit is this?”
“Good old American hamburgers and fries. You can either eat it or starve.” John handed Hando a coke in a paper cup through the bars.
“I don’t eat crap like this.”
“I’d be interested to know what a skinhead does eat.”
“I eat healthy foods, salads and vegetables and good meats.”
John looked at him a moment. “You got lettuce and tomato for salad and ground beef for meat.” He left him alone and went back to his desk to check on that boat.
Hando unwrapped the burger, noting the greasy paper it was wrapped in. He added salt to the burger and ate it without further comment.
He was in jail for starting a fight with a group of Mexican farm workers. Hando worked for a little company out toward the interstate. They manufactured propellers for outboard boat motors. Down at the edge of the company’s parking lot is where the Mexicans waited for the bus that took them to work. He’d been harassing them for some time, calling out to them. He wasn’t alone. Others were doing it, too, but he got in a little too close and a shoving match started, then the fight.
He asked the sheriff how long he could keep him behind bars without a lawyer or a judge. Biebe ignored him. He’d been in now for 36 hours and he was going to have to let him go.
Ross showed up around 3:00 and after a while John left and rode out to the island to have a look at the boat. There hadn’t been anything reported about it so he took some pictures and pulled it up on shore. He’d get them online later. He crossed the bridge again and rode out to highway 17, caught a speeder and wrote a ticket. He got back in his vehicle, rode north as far as he could in his county and then turned around, heading back south. He usually made this loop once or twice a day depending on what was going on in town. Brake lights were coming on ahead of him and cars were moving over in the other lane. He turned on his siren and flashing lights and rode up the emergency lane. A car was stopped in the right hand lane with a man at the wheel doing…nothing.
ON TO CHAPTER 5
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