Mangrove Lightning by Randy Wayne White

Author:Randy Wayne White
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2017-03-02T12:16:58+00:00

14

They were on Tavernier Key, watching tarpon weave among pilings, when Tootsie Barlow said to Ford, “Screw it. Help me grab some rods. We’re fishing—but don’t tell him. He’ll blab to my doctor.”

Him was Tomlinson, who had left earlier for Key West. No explanation offered or needed after he’d snapped at them both, “Hey . . . get away from my van. My personal stash is in there.”

Ford knew he shouldn’t let the old man fish, but he’d never seen a better-looking skiff than the one moored here on Tavernier Creek. It was similar to Tootsie’s original flats skiff, nothing like the aluminum job he’d bought that morning. It was an opportunity to fish with a master, so Ford said, “Let’s wait until the sun’s lower—unless the tide’s no good. We’d have to worry about squalls, too, I guess, so . . . What do you think?”

Barlow didn’t have to think. He knew. There was something he wanted to discuss.

A little after six, they were staked off Black Betsy Keys where a crevice of sand crossed the shallows. Leopard rays had lured enough bonefish within range that Barlow put down his fly rod and got to it. “You might be the one person Gracie will listen to. She’d be dead if you hadn’t jumped in, and she knows it. You know what I’m worried about, don’t you?”

Ford said, “The court arraignment. If she doesn’t change her story, they might set bail for Lambeth and he’ll walk, depending on how much evidence they have in the other cases. Probably keep walking, if someone’s dumb enough to post it. Or, is it that other thing?”

“Between me and Gracie?”

“It crossed my mind,” Ford said to keep the man talking.

“That bothers me, too, what she and her so-called boyfriend did. I could use it against her, I suppose, tell Gracie I’ll go to the police if she helps that prick again. Hate to do it. She’s family, you know? But her mother’s near ’bout had a nervous breakdown.” He got up, intending to say more, then realized Ford had been trolling for information. “I’ll be damned. Tomlinson didn’t tell you what she did, did he?”

“Just that he arranged a meeting and your niece admitted something she feels guilty about. Confessed, I think was the word. No details. But if you want me to talk to Gracie, don’t you think I should know the whole story?”

The old man needed time to decide. He wore sleeves, fishing gloves, and a face stocking to keep off the sun. He pulled it down to his mouth and studied an area to the northwest. “That squall’s got some fire in it, but we’re okay for now.”

“Every afternoon,” the biologist said patiently.

“How do you like her so far?” Meaning this skiff, with its teak trim, wooden ribs, and strakes that breathed in a rough sea. The deck was white, the hull polished jade.

“Impressive,” Ford said.

“It’s a lot more doodadded up than my old one, but she’ll plane on dew and track true as cable.

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