Page 112 of Stone Coast
We dove into the water as the propane tank at the stern grill exploded.
By the time we surfaced, an amber ball rolled into the sky, lighting up the bay like the sun. Black smoke filled the night, obscuring the moon.
Wearing nothing but a T-shirt and panties, I swam to shore and trudged through the surf.
We looked back across the bay as flames flickered high into the sky, the city and water reflecting the hellish glow.
"I really, really liked that boat," I said.
We watched it burn to nothingness, black smoke roiling into the sky. The deck buckled and groaned. Nylon rigging melted, dropping blobs of fiery goo. With a tortured screech, the mast collapsed, splashing into the water. When there was barely anything left, waves doused the flames, hissing against the heat. The carcass sank into oblivion with a gurgle.
We were stranded on Blackfin Key. There was nothing out here but mosquitoes, weeds, and trees.
"Look at the bright side," Tyson said. "If there were any surveillance devices left on the boat, they're gone now.”
He had the presence of mind to grab his gun and his phone before disembarking. We were pretty far out, but he managed to get a signal.
Tyson called the county, and they sent a patrol boat to pick us up. We sat in the wet sand and watched the waves crash against the shore as we waited. We both coughed from time to time, spitting up black soot. My lungs were raw and irritated. I’m sure his were, too. All things considered, we had gotten pretty lucky.
“Are you okay?” Tyson asked after I had a coughing fit.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”
He gave a nod.
"Is it just me, or is it suspicious that someone tried to kill us after we talked to Dirk Langston?” I said.
“I have this thing about coincidences,” Tyson said. “I think we need to have a talk to Dirk’s boss. Alec Stratton is the one pulling the strings. Dirk’s just a pawn.”
“What are you going to do? Storm into the CEO’s office and accuse him of fraud, corruption, and murder?”
“Something like that.”
“Without evidence?”
He gave me a flat look. “Something will give. I’m good about being a thorn in people’s side.”
“I have no doubt.” Tyson was not a guy you wanted to piss off. Now it was personal for him. It was in his eyes.
“Can I borrow your phone?”
His brow wrinkled. “Who are you going to call?”
“Someone who can help us.”
59
We climbed aboard a patrol boat in the shallows. EMTs evaluated us as we headed back to Pineapple Bay. Our oxygen saturation was good, and no signs of respiratory distress. They cleared us both and told us to follow up with primary care.
A trip to the doctor was not on the agenda.
The twin outboards growled, and the aluminum patrol boat split the inky sea. I was still flush with adrenaline, and my head swirled.
“That was everything,” I said to Tyson. “Everything I had in the world was on that boat. Everything that connected me to my past.”
“Not everything,” he replied with a grin.
We returned to a substation of the Coconut County Sheriff's Office in Pineapple Bay. It was a hive of activity, even at this hour. The AC blasted, shivering my skin. Goosebumpssprouted. A deputy handed us some blankets to wrap up in while we filled out a report.
