Deadman's Cay by Boyd Craven

Author:Boyd Craven [Craven, Boyd]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The FWC and Sheriff's department had taken two days to show up, and funny enough, without coordination, they both showed up at the front gate within seconds of each other. I heard the honk and went out front to see and saw two vehicles. I chuckled as I unlocked the chain holding the gate, then pulled it open, letting both trucks in together, then closed it back up, without locking it. Both pulled up to the side of the warehouse's steel side, near the overhead door. I walked up slowly as both cars unloaded. Two familiar FWC officers exited a green painted Ford. The sheriff's department had what looked like an old 80s blazer, but it was in pristine shape.

“Are you Mr. Delgado?” the sheriff started.

“Yes sir,” I answered, pulling my wallet out fishing for ID.

“We know him, Sheriff,” one of the FWC boys said.

“Agents Carter and Page,” he said, pointing to each other for the sheriff's benefit.

“Ahhh, I see,” he said, waving at my hands. I put my ID away and pocketed my wallet.

“Sheriff Mark Williams,” he said by way of introduction. “You're the gentleman who called about the sinking boat?”

“That's me,” I told him. “Nice to meet you sir, good to see you again Agents Carter and Page. Boat's tied up on Franklin's dock.”

“Wait, you're that guy who stopped those three robbers from hitting the pawn shop near here, aren't you?”

It had been local PD who had answered the call I remembered, and I grinned, shrugging my shoulders. You would think I was used to this by now, but I wasn't.

“Yes sir,” I answered.

“Good, I know the family. Damned good people, I go to their church.”

I bit the side of my cheek, trying not to laugh. Everybody around here goes to that church apparently.

“Yes sir, Miss Carly and I are somewhat acquainted.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his face darkening.

Danger Will Robinson, danger!

“Kind of,” I admitted. “You want to check out the boat?”

“Yes, please,” Agent Page answered, with a motion showing he wanted me to lead the way.

I told them the story of how Irish John had woken me up, leaving the part out that I’d fell asleep on the picnic table, and how he’d insisted on me helping him. We’d got to the boat by the time I told them how I had gotten the water separated and jumped the big diesels with my battery from my aluminum fishing boat.

“You said she was taking on water?” the sheriff asked. “How?”

“Somebody partially opened the sea cocks in the engine compartment. It was almost like they were trying to sink it. Irish John closed the sea cocks and we rigged a battery bilge pump up, then jumped her.”

“Now why do you think they wanted to sink her?” the sheriff asked.

“I honestly don't know. I know whoever it was killed the batteries trying to start it up, probably not knowing how to filter the water out… dead starter solenoid, basic diesel maintenance stuff. Other than getting it jumped and back here, I haven't really done more than a quick look in it to see if I could figure out who to call.

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