Wood's Chase: Action and Adventure in the Florida Keys (Mac Travis Adventure Thrillers Book 14) by Steven Becker

Author:Steven Becker [Becker, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The White Marlin Press LLC
Published: 2022-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

19

The first effects became visible at dinner when Pamela left the table for the second time.

“Gonna be a rough one,” Mac said. He glanced out at the breeze blowing through the trees. “North wind.” He didn’t need to say any more. With the island just shy of the open Gulf, there was no worse quarter for the wind to blow. Pip had called from the Cancun airport with his arrival time in Key West. With a wicked side chop to deal with, Mac had increased the travel time from an hour-and-a-half to two hours. He’d have to deal with Pamela tonight, and she would be a mess on the ride over, but he hoped by morning she would be back to herself.

Trufante was still in the breeze, which wasn’t unusual, though inconvenient. Mac’s best hope was to find him sometime tonight and arrange a rendezvous in Key West.

“You sure you don’t want to go?” Mac asked Mel.

“A whole lot more I can do from here.”

Mac nodded, almost grateful to not have the two women together. Right man, right job had been one of Wood’s mottos. In the dangerous world of underwater construction, it mattered who did what. In this case it was right woman, right job. Mel was the thinker; Pamela, the fighter.

At least that loose end was resolved. Mac felt better having Mel out of harm’s way. Pip worked off his gut feelings. He was not famous for foresight and planning. Having Mel available for support would be critical. The list of things that could go wrong was not worth contemplating.

Mac had the firearms secured on the Tin Can. He calculated he’d run about a hundred miles since topping off the tanks, and figured he’d probably burned in the neighborhood of fifty gallons. The mileage was accurate, while the fuel consumption a best guess. The rule of thumb was a third for the way there, a third for the way back, and a third for reserve. His gauges showed the calculated fuel consumption based on the RPMs the engines were running, but that didn’t figure in currents, waves, and wind. Running into a head sea with a twenty-knot wind against the tide would result in a much higher burn rate.

There were three ten-gallon jugs by the shed. Mac left them for Mel in case she needed the Reef Runner, their topless center console. He would fuel up in Key West.

Pamela staggered out of the bathroom a few minutes later, looking drawn and pale. Mac could only imagine what she was going through and decided to run the extra miles to the Atlantic, where the nearshore waters would be protected by the landmass.

He picked up his plate, then grabbed Mel’s and Pamela’s, which was barely touched. Taking them to the sink, he dumped Pamela’s in the trash before filling the sink with hot water. Dishwashers saved water but used too much electricity for their solar-power system, so he handwashed the dishes.

“Think we better get going,” Mac said. He glanced at Pamela, who was by any definition a hot mess.

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