Sweet Mary_A Novel by Liz Balmaseda

Author:Liz Balmaseda [Balmaseda, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Action & Adventure, Thrillers, Suspense
ISBN: 9781439165461
Google: G3bHkMOBBMsC
Amazon: 1416542973
Goodreads: 6985593
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2009-07-14T00:00:00+00:00

Under a blazing sun, I followed Joe past a motley collection of boats. Crawling atop them were gypsy souls long ago swallowed by the tempting fringes of the Overseas Highway. They had drifted here to escape, to hide, to spend an endless summer, and they had stumbled upon a paradise of barefoot living and rum-enhanced sunsets. Everybody here has a used-to-be story, some of them jarringly different from their present-day scenario.

We walked up to an aging but sturdy thirty-foot fishing boat docked by a sign that read TARPON HUNTERS OF ISLAMORADA. On board, a leathery man in his late fifties polished the wood-grain details of his open cabin. This was Captain Nick, a reinvented menswear salesman who had lost a fortune in the market crash of 1987. He squinted in our direction and waved us over.

Moments later, he and Joe were drinking longnecks on the deck, trading fishing stories, and commiserating about financial woes. I took the opportunity to flip through the missed calls log on my cell phone—there were none that couldn’t wait. I put the phone away and tuned in to the conversation just as Joe was asking Captain Nick about some guy named Gus.

“Sorry, man, I don’t remember him,” said the captain in a rather cautious tone.

“Of course you do—you remember Fat Gus. Big, hairy jerk from Gainesville,” said Joe.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Then again, I’ve been out of the loop for a while,” said Captain Nick. “But if you want a good deal on some hog snapper, I’m your dude.”

“Screw the hog snapper, Nick. What the hell’s wrong with your brain these days?” said Joe.

“My life’s real simple right now, and I’d like to keep it that way,” said the boat captain. He downed the rest of his beer with a bit of an attitude.

Joe walked away, frustrated. But I wasn’t ready to give up on finding this Gus character, whoever he was.

“I’ll take the hog snapper,” I said.

“Coming right up. How much you want?” said the captain.

“Give me the smallest one you’ve got,” I said.

Captain Nick opened up a large cooler and grabbed a thirteen-inch, reddish-coral fish. He wrapped it in a sheet of plastic and tossed it in a grocery bag for me.

“How much?” I said.

“Twelve bucks is good.”

I held up a one-hundred-dollar bill. He stared at it but wouldn’t take it.

“Got no change, honey.”

“I don’t want change,” I said. “I don’t want the fish, either.”

“So what the hell’s the money for?” the captain said.

“For you,” I said. “Consider it a thank-you present for helping us find my cousin. Gus.”

Captain Nick thought about it for a second before he snatched the hundred. He jammed the bill into a pocket of his shorts.

“You didn’t hear this from me,” he said. He glanced back as if hog snapper could eavesdrop. “He hangs out at the Dune Dog, off Duval Street.”

We left the captain where we found him, one fish-smeared Benjamin richer, and we hit the highway south to Key West.

DUNE DOG TAVERN—DAY 29

A badly lit, beer-soaked hangout for locals.

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