Shark Fin Soup by Susan Klaus

Author:Susan Klaus
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oceanview Publishing
Published: 2014-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

At the cabana, Wade and Harry sat at a table with an ocean view and were finishing their lunch of rice, beans, slaw, and grilled fish. The waiter approached with the third round of beers.

“I wonder what happened to Hot Dog,” Harry said and took a sip from the bottle.

“Yeah, Chris should’ve been back by now.” Wade glanced at his watch. “It’s going on an hour.”

“He’s an oddball, so damn tight lipped and withdrawn. And he makes the rest of us look like onions, attracts chicks like flies, yet he hasn’t touched any of them. Wade, I’m starting to think that boy is queer. He’s pretty enough to be a fag.”

“Chris isn’t gay,” Wade said, annoyed. “He’s hurting over the loss of his wife and isn’t ready for a fling. I feel sorry for him.”

“You feel sorry for—?” Harry coughed in disbelief. “Shit, that sucker has it all; young, tall, good-looking, and he’s got money. Have you noticed his Rolex?”

“Well, I’m getting worried about him. Let’s pay up and get out of here.”

Harry swallowed the last of his beer and set the bottle down. “Yeah, that port isn’t exactly a tourist destination. Those fishermen can be pricks. Last year they poured gasoline on an outsider who was asking about shark fins. Luckily they were stopped before setting him on fire.”

“Damn it, Harry!” Wade jumped out of his seat. “Wish I’d know that. Chris is into saving sharks and came to Puntarenas to get the scoop on fins. Should’ve never let him go off alone.” He threw some money on the table.

“Fuck, no one told me,” Harry said while hurrying to the Jeep. Driving down the main drag of Caldera port, they passed a side street that was more like an alley.

“Stop, stop!” Wade yelled. “There’s something going on down there.” Harry backed up the Jeep, and half a block away, they saw a body crouched on the road. Six men stood around it and watched one man kick the downed victim.

“It’s Chris,” said Wade. Harry whipped the Jeep down the side street. “There’re six of them. Us old farts are going to get our asses handed to us.”

“Not necessarily.” Harry stopped the Jeep thirty feet from Chris and the men. He reached under his seat and pulled out a 9mm. Like a short version of John Wayne swinging off his horse before a shootout, Harry stepped from the Jeep, gun in hand, and confronted the men, shouting in Spanish. When one man yelled back in defiance, Harry fired over their heads. The men scattered and raced up the street.

Wade stared at Harry, too astonished for words.

“Standard stuff for a pusher,” Harry said as they hustled to Christian.

Wade rolled Christian over and held his bloody head. “We need to call the cops and get him to a hospital.”

“No cops, no hospital,” Christian gasped and struggled to rise. “Just get me out of here.”

“Agreed. Don’t need the police in my life,” said Harry. “We’ll take him back to Jacó. There’s a walk-in clinic near my house.

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