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As Nick, Max and I walked down L dock, Nick said, “You saved the ladies’ life, huh. What happened?”

I told him and added, “A punk pulled a pistol on them as they were getting in their car. I managed to see it going down, called the cops and did a little interference while they were en route.”

“I used to ask myself, Nicky, why this stuff happen to your pal, Sean. You know what I come to believe, huh?”

“No, what?”

“I believe shit happens and it happens to you ‘cause you see it comin’ down the pike before it happens. Then you try to trip it up. Make sense?”

I tried not to grin. “So, that’s how you sum up my life?”

“Yep. Sean O’Brien, a good guy, sometimes in a bad place. Shitty places, man.”

“I’ll think about that while we stow away the groceries and ice.”

Nick pulled a cold Corona from the case. He said, “Let’s toast to you savin’ the women.”

I set the ice in Jupiter’s cockpit. Max scampered around the boat, her nose working in all the corners. I opened the doors, hatches and began loading in the groceries. Nick popped the top off a Corona, sat in the leather sofa, removed his flip-flops, and placed his feet on the cypress table layered in thick lacquer. It was sturdy. Nick proof, and it came with the boat. He set his beer bottle down on the table and called Max up onto his lap. He belched and said, “We had a good run last week. I sold two hundred pounds of black grouper. Got some left over. We’ll cook it up, Greek-style, tonight.”

My cell phone rang. I looked down at the ID. Elizabeth Monroe. I answered, watching the condensation from Nick’s beer bottle roll onto the table. “Sean, you said to call if I needed to.”

“Are you okay?”

“It’s Molly. I can’t reach her anywhere.”

THIRTEEN

I sat on one of the three barstools next to my mini-bar. Nick started to say something, and I held my hand up so I could hear Elizabeth. “What do you mean you can’t reach her?”

“She’s not answering her cell phone. She’s so stubborn. Her boyfriend called earlier, and they’d decided to head back to Gainesville together. I thought I could talk her into staying a while longer. But Mark is working, too. He had to get back and suggested it would be best if they traveled together in their separate cars so he could keep an eye out for Molly as she drove. He wanted to make sure she wasn’t being followed. She agreed. So she packed up, took her father’s pistol and left.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“I called them right before I called you. They said for her to keep together with friends and to be aware of who and what’s around her. In the meantime, they’d continue searching for Frank Soto.”

Her voice sounded fatigued, filled with worry. I asked, “Does she live alone?”

“She lives with a roommate, a girl she’s lived with for most of this year.”

“Is the girl back at school?”

“I don’t know… Molly left so quickly I didn’t ask her. I called her apartment and there was no answer. And, Mark hasn’t answered his cell phone either.”

“Keep calling them. Make sure her roommate is there. If not, maybe Molly should stay with her boyfriend.”

Elizabeth was silent. I could hear her breathing. I could almost feel her hands griping my back again. Thought I heard her crying. “Are you okay?” I asked, regretting the banality of the question as soon as it came out of my mouth.

“I just feel so damn helpless… I don’t know what to do.”

I said nothing, letting her speak, to say whatever she needed to say.

“Sean, I think there was a reason you were there when that man — Soto, it’s so hard to even say his name. You just didn’t happen by, you were put there. I don’t know if you believe in angels, but for that moment in time, you were our guardian angel. You saw what no one in the parking lot saw, and you did something about it… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I chuckled, “But I’m no angel.”

“Oh, you have a devilish side, do you?”

“Multifaceted.”

“I see. Thanks, Sean. Thanks for being a good listener. Bye.”

“Wait,” I could feel my internal compass shifting poles like some huge magnet moving across the moon and pulling at a tide within me. Later, I might regret saying it. “Elizabeth, call me anytime you want to talk. Let me know as soon as you hear from Molly so that I know she’s okay. And, maybe we can get together down the road. After this thing goes away, we’ll have dinner.”

“I’d like that. I can make something here at the restaurant or my house.”

“You spend time in the kitchen for a living. I can make something for you.”

“Oh, you cook, too?”

I looked over at Nick who was beginning his second bottle of Corona. “I’ve been associated with an extraordinary chef. Matter of fact, he’s here on my boat. I’ve managed to learn how to make a few meals from him. I probably can reproduce one for you.”

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much. Bye, Sean.” She disconnected.

Nick rubbed Max, her eyes half closed and he said, “So you makin’ a hot date with a gal, and you want to begin in the kitchen, huh?”

“It’s not a date at all, it’s—”

“Aw, ‘come on Sean. Why do you think I learned to cook? What starts in the kitchen ends in the bedroom.” His eyes danced, a wide grin spreading, Max now fully awake. “Trust me. It’s an old Greek way. Men learn how to cook, ‘cause they had to do it out at sea. Who you think does the traditional cooking around Easter, the Epiphany?’

“That’s twice a year, I bet it’s the women in the kitchen the other 363 days.”

Jupiter rocked. Someone had come aboard, and Max uttered a low growl.

Not a good sign.

FOURTEEN

Max sat up, and then jumped to the floor once she recognized who had stepped in the cockpit. Dave Collins, a cocktail in hand, grunted as he walked across the transom. “Well, hello, lass. It’s about time you brought Sean back here. I trust you let him drive, did you not?” Max wagged her tail and licked the condensation that splashed from Dave’s glass to the teak floor. “Cheers, gentlemen.” Dave raised his glass and added. “Mr. O’Brien, are Mr. Cronus and I the only ones with adult beverages?”

“You two are always one ahead of me,” I said, stepping to the galley and getting a beer. I returned to my barstool as Dave sat on couch. He looked younger than his sixty-five years. Smooth, tanned face. Burly chest. Wide forehead. His thick white hair often was disheveled because he wore his bifocals on top of his head. His blue eyes were curious, filled with intellect and a hint of mystery. Formally employed by the U.S. government, his time overseas, learning languages and people, gave him a stage to appreciate art, fine wines, cultures and the food the various customs produced.

Dave sipped from his drink, swallowed musingly and then looked up at me. “So, tell us, what the hell happened. Seems like when I want to hear the news from our part-time marina friend, we have to catch the infamous Sean O’Brien on the local television news, or read what’s left of a daily newspaper. A phone call to keep us simple marina folks apprised would be courteous on your part and most appreciative on ours.”

Nick nodded and said, “I’ll drink to that. Kim told me what happened from seeing it on the news, too.” Max crawled up on the sofa between them.

“I was coming over here to work on Jupiter when it went down. Happened in a matter of seconds in the Walmart parking lot. I stunned the perp, but not long enough. He recovered quicker than I would have thought. Getaway was on a Harley. Media showed, and then you, Dave, called me later to tell me Soto was ticketed.”