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Cally, in the company of Karen the proprietress, was squatting at one end of the closest dock, trading splashes with a dolphin. The small bottlenose was chattering back at her every squeal and she was obviously having the time of her life.

Mike slid the gigantic automatic into the rear of his shorts and stepped out onto the dock. At the creak of the wood, Karen looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“Morning sleepyhead,” she quipped and stood up.

The dolphin protested as she stepped away but she just waved and tossed it a handful of fish bits. The bottlenose caught them expertly and went back to charming bits out of Cally.

“Tame dolphin,” Sharon commented, squinting against the bright morning sun. “They aren’t usually like that, are they?”

“No,” Karen said. “I was Shirlie’s trainer.”

Sharon raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Where? Sea World?”

“No,” said the woman, bitterly. “Not anymore anyway. I was at the Marine Mammal Research Facility in Marathon. It was really just a tourist trap for dolphin rides, but I’ve never had anything against that. I was with Sea World for years as a trainer and really believe that we did good work. Making cetaceans stars kept all sorts of ugly things from happening to them over the years. Heck, if it wasn’t for places like Sea World, nobody would care about dolphins and orcas.”

“So how’d you end up here?” asked Sharon as Mike walked down the dock to where his daughter continued to converse with the cetacean.

“Well, when the tourists started to fall off, we got a notice from the National Marine Fisheries Board that we were to release all of our specimens. Their reasoning was that there was no way to maintain captive marine mammals in adequate conditions and it was better to release them.”

Mike turned and looked behind him. “That’s insane!” he stated. “You can’t just release a captive mammal and expect it to survive!”

“No duh,” Karen said, then smiled sadly to take the sting out of the words. “That was exactly what I said, and two or three dozen other trainers that I kept in contact with. What really pissed me off was that we couldn’t even get any press time. The NMFB just shoved the damn ruling down our throats and the press paid no attention.”

Mike nodded. “Let me guess. It wasn’t ‘newsworthy.’ ”

“Exactly.” Karen nodded. “Anyway, I was dating Harry at the time. Instead of going back up north-I’m from Chicago originally-I moved in with him. Shirlie and four other dolphins just sort of ‘followed’ me here,” she concluded with a sly smile.

“Trail of breadcrumbs?” asked Sharon, watching Cally pat the six-hundred-pound sea mammal. She wondered when the inevitable question would hit.

“Something like that,” said Karen. “We used to take them out for swims with the boat.” She gestured at a well-kept Boston Whaler tied up to the office. Something about it indicated to Mike that it hadn’t moved lately. “I just told them to follow me over.”

“What happened to all the rest?” asked Mike. “I mean there was Sea World and the Miami Oceanarium and that one in St. Augustine…”

Karen’s face pinched up at the thought. “Sea World just went over to the coast and released theirs in the Intercoastal Waterway. I don’t know about the dolphins and porpoises, but at least one male orca was later found dead. The rest did pretty much the same thing.”

“Damn,” said Mike. There didn’t seem to be much else to say. Then another thought hit him. “Hey, what about all—”

“The zoos?” Karen interjected. “And animal parks?”

“Yeah,” Sharon agreed. “What about them? I remember something about Zoo Atlanta only being able to keep the gorillas.”

“There are a couple of big parks in Florida that have taken in some of the animals,” Karen said. “The herbivores are free roaming and more or less making it. Most of the carnivores have had to be put down. And anything that can’t get into one of the reserve parks is getting put down.”

“That’s not right,” Mike said. “We’ve got an obligation to those animals! They didn’t exactly ask to be put in zoos.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” said Karen sadly. “We’ve been writing Congress, the President, everybody. But the responses we’ve gotten have a point. With shortages for humans, where are we going to get food for the animals?”

“Daddy, get real,” said Cally, rolling onto her back, then flipping to her feet in the most limber move Mike had ever seen in his life. “It’s an obligation, not a suicide pact. Once you kick the Posties’ ass, we can gather them back up and recover whatever we find. Until then, we gotta concentrate.” She rubbed the small of her back. “Shit. I forgot about the Walther.”

“Showoff,” Mike laughed. He shook his head. “I suppose you’re right, kitten. It still pisses me off.”

“Softy,” said Sharon with a smile and gave him a thump on the shoulder.

Karen smiled at the byplay then turned to Cally. “You want to swim with Shirlie?” she asked.

“Sure!” said Cally with a grin. “That’d be spar!”

“Go get a suit,” Karen said, and smiled as the girl scampered off. “Harry and I don’t really think children are a good idea,” she commented without looking at them as Cally went around the corner.

Mike grimaced. “I can understand that.”

“She carries a pistol with her?” Karen asked, carefully.

“You don’t?” Mike snorted. “Yeah. And she knows how to use it. She also knows all about firearm safety. Don’t worry about Cally; Dad’s turning her into a survivor.”

“Our other daughter is off-planet,” Sharon said, quietly. She was looking at the dolphin racing around the small harbor. “Could I join you?” she asked.

“Sure!” said Karen. “The more the merrier. The boys’ll probably show up around ten, after they’re done foraging. Shirlie’s just so lazy she’d rather be fed.” Karen turned to Mike. “What about you? Want to join us?”

“Maybe later,” Mike said. “I think I’m gonna go try to butter Harry up. You guys have got a couple of cases of hooks coming.”

Karen exhaled in relief at that the thought. “That would be great. You don’t have any idea how bad it’s been lately.”

“Yeah,” growled Mike. “We’ve got a few things to thank the Posleen for.”

* * *

Mike set the case of fishhooks on the counter and smiled. “There’s another case in the Tahoe, and the other stuff. I’ve also got a Number-Ten can of coffee, but you can’t have all of it.”

Harry shook his head and smiled faintly. “You sure know how to make friends,” he said. He opened the case and pulled out a box of hooks. “We’ve been making them out of nails and tearing up lures. But, believe it or not, we’ve got coffee.”

Mike reached behind his back and extracted a hip flask. “I’ve got some of this out in the Tahoe, too.” He took a hit and passed it to Harry. “I’ll even give some of it up for some goddamn explanations.”

Harry regarded the clear liquid carefully. “Well, it’s a little early,” he said, then took a swig. He grimaced and coughed. “Oh! Smooth!” he gasped. “Jesus, what is that?”

“Georgia Mountain Dew,” Mike answered with a laugh. “Only the finest. Now what the hell is going on around here?”

* * *

Mike had never had a conch omelet before. He had to admit it wasn’t bad, but the thought would take a little getting used to. He scraped up the last of the grits and wiped his mouth with the provided hand towel. The Key did indeed have coffee, and Mike had to admit that wherever it came from it was better than the issue can he had with him. He took another sip of the excellent brew and cleared his throat.