Rising Spirit Read online

  “I can see that,” I said, nodding toward the end of the canal, where a segment was reserved for smaller boats. It was crammed full of all manner of small craft, from dinghies to sleek flats skiffs.

  Kim leaned over the rail and gave me a big hug, and then embraced Sara, as I shook my son-in-law’s hand with a shoulder bump. After pleasantries were exchanged and we’d caught up, Kim nodded toward the end of the dock; her way of telling me she had something to share that others might not need to know. I followed her down to where the Grady was docked at Salty Dog’s stern.

  “Where’s Eve?” I asked, worried because they apparently hadn’t come down from Miami together.

  “She’s not coming, Dad. Something came up.”

  Kim’s older sister and I didn’t see eye to eye on a few things, but it wasn’t like we were estranged. The first weekend of every month, Eve and her husband, Nick, would bring my grandson down, and Nick and I would take Fred fishing. Later, when Anna was born, it was just Nick and Fred who came down from Miami. I got to know my son-in-law a lot better when Eve wasn’t around. He was more guarded when she was. Now that Anna was a toddler, Eve also made the trip and took her to see things or to the playground.

  “Something came up?”

  “Mom’s in town.”

  “Sandy? Here?”

  I’d talked to my ex-wife only three times since we divorced; about once a decade. Kim had come to the Keys to find me ten years ago, and Eve had done the same not long after that. They quickly learned I wasn’t the kind of man their mother had told them I was.

  “Not here, here,” Kim said. “She’s been staying with Eve for the last couple of weeks.”

  “Why? Is something wrong?”

  “Kamren—the guy she’s been living with since we were kids—well… he was murdered two months ago. According to Mom, she barely got away and has been receiving threats ever since.”

  “Kamren?” I’d known of him, but he’d always been called “the boyfriend” or something; never a name, and I’d never asked. “How? Where?”

  “Up in Virginia,” Kim said. “They were hiking, and she’d left the trail to look at something. Two guys came along and started roughing Kamren up, asking where Mom was. She’d hidden in the bushes and watched them knock Kamren to the ground and shoot him in the back of the head.”

  She said it without emotion. I’d never pried into Sandy’s life with either of my girls. Was there something there, or was Kim in cop mode and simply digested the information weeks earlier?

  “Have the police caught the guys?”

  Kim shook her head. “No. Mom even recorded it with her phone. But the cops said the video doesn’t show their faces. Dad, she got a threatening email to her private account, saying that she can’t hide in Florida, either.”

  She went on to tell me that Sandy and her boyfriend had gone to Staunton, Virginia about an environmental problem concerning livestock waste polluting the headwaters of Chesapeake Bay.

  I felt torn. Sandy and I had split up right after Kim was born. She’d left me on Christmas day after my unit had deployed to Panama unannounced. I’d hated her for years but understood why she’d left. Being married to a Marine infantryman wasn’t an easy life.

  I’d only had a few short conversations with Sandy since then—none recently. As a person, she no longer meant much of anything to me—just a stranger I once knew. But she was also the mother of two of my daughters, so anything that hurt their relationship would naturally appear on my radar. And if whoever was threatening my ex found her at Eve and Nick’s house, that put them all in danger. Including my grandkids, Fred and Anna.

  I looked out over the water to collect my thoughts. “What steps has Nick taken?”

  Nick and his father, Alfredo, were a father-and-son law firm. We’d once been adversaries, but now we got along okay. The father was cordial, but I always sensed a respect born of fear. I’d long ago accepted their apologies and Nick had gotten past what had happened on Elbow Cay—men they’d hired to steal a treasure tried to kill me and my friends. Several people died as a result, and the original Gaspar’s Revenge had been blown out of the water.

  “He’s filed a protection order,” Kim replied. “Since the email sender wasn’t known, that opened the door for a subpoena to the internet provider. The email address turned out to be bogus, and all the provider would say was that it originated from the Virginia area.”

  I didn’t know a lot about such things, but I did know that emails could be tracked to a more precise location than just a state. And I also knew who could find that information.

  “I’ll make a call,” I said. “See if we can’t find out anything more.”

  “We?”

  “She’s your mom, Kim. Anything that bothers her affects you and Eve.”

  “And anything that bothers us, you kick the snot out of?”

  I shrugged. “Something like that.”

  “I’m a cop, Dad.”

  I gave her a crooked grin. “Fish and Wildlife.”

  She knew I was kidding and that I was very proud of the path she’d taken. Kim was an excellent cop, in or out of the water. She and Marty were responsible for a couple of pretty big drug takedowns.

  “You’re still a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal, Dad.”

  I pulled her to my side, my arm around her shoulders. “Sometimes the world needs a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal.”

  We sat around Deuce and Julie’s boat for a while longer, catching up on all the news and gossip. Finally, with a glance up at the sun’s position, Rusty called Jimmy on a portable VHF radio and told him he could open the gate.

  The entrance to the Rusty Anchor wasn’t concealed, but there weren’t any flashing neon arrows like on Bugs Bunny. In fact, there wasn’t any kind of sign out there at all. Just a mailbox, which had been leaning since Hurricane Donna hit Marathon when Rusty was an infant. The “gate” was nothing more than a rusted chain between two posts. It effectively blocked the crushed shell driveway, which just vanished into lush tropical foliage like many other properties in the Keys. A casual passerby would think it was a private home. And it had been for a long time. Rusty’s house was forty years older than the bar.

  Jimmy’s voice came over the speaker. “Cars are backed up on the shoulder all the way to Kmart, man. Must be a hundred of them. A bunch of people walked, and there’s a good-sized crowd around me, man.”

  Rusty took Sidney’s hand. “We’d best get to work, babe.”

  I rose and followed them, pointing toward the stage, where several people were working. “Who’s playing?”

  “Oh, we have something special lined up,” Sidney said. “We’re calling it ‘Writers Circle.’ A bunch of local songwriters will be onstage together, all unplugged.”

  “Anybody I know?”

  Rusty chuckled. “Like you know anyone. Get off that rock of yours once in a while, bro.”

  “Scott’s coming up from Key West,” Julie said.

  Sidney nodded. “And Eric’s supposed to be here, but he called and said he’d be a little late. His motorhome was overheating up in Key Largo, and he’s having to load his equipment into the car he pulls behind it. He’s bringing a friend, too. Dan is already here, along with a few others; Todd Sparks, Jack Mosely, Sheree Cade, and Todd Trusty.”

  “Julie’s gonna sit in, too,” Rusty said.

  “All onstage at the same time?” I asked, recognizing most of the names. “That sounds great!”

  We walked together toward the bar as Sidney continued. “Harry Teaford and Gonzo Mays are out back setting up.”

  I looked to Rusty for help.

  “Harry’s with Radio A-1-A,” he said, “and Gonzo’s the official unofficial mayor of Key West.”

  “So, what are they setting up?” Marty asked as he and Kim walked hand in hand with us.

  “Radio A-1-A will be doing
a remote broadcast and it’ll go out on Pyrate Radio,” Sidney replied. “And Eric usually does a Facebook Live event when he plays.”

  “Going worldwide, huh?” I said. “That’s a big audience.”

  “You know about that stuff?” Rusty asked me. “Streaming radio, the Facebook, and whatnot?”

  “Jimmy and I listen to Pyrate sometimes,” I replied. “We don’t exactly live in a cave up there.”

  Since they’d replaced the cell tower on the north end of Big Pine Key, Jimmy and I were able to get a good signal on our regular cell phones. He had an unlimited data plan and streamed Pyrate Radio and other stuff from his phone to an excellent wireless speaker system on his porch. The two of us tried to play along sometimes, but neither of us was all that good. Mostly it devolved into an argument over what chords were being played. We both had tin ears, so figuring out a song took some time. It was just a way to pass the idle time, which we didn’t have a lot of. Some of the songs Pyrate played made me want to sail away, and the few short commercials were for places all around the Caribbean, further reinforcing the urge.

  As we reached the deck, pickups and a few cars started streaming into the new, enlarged parking area. Once inside, I saw there were already quite a few familiar faces. I matched most of them to the many small boats at the dinghy dock.

  Dink was regaling a couple of the other guides with one of his outlandish sea stories and had just reached the end. “Then it jumped over the bow and spit that fly right into his tackle box.”

  The others laughed and Dink stepped back, nearly falling over a table. I managed to grab his shirtsleeve to keep him on his feet. Dink had perpetual sea legs. On his skiff’s poling platform, he was like a six-foot ballerina, but the moment he stepped on shore, he was more ungainly than the proverbial drunken sailor.

  “Thanks, Jesse!” Dink offered. “Haven’t seen you around in a couple of months. Where ya been?”

  “Off island for a while,” I said, moving over to my usual spot at the far end of the bar. “Working a find in the Windwards.”

  “Hope it pans out for y’all,” Dink said, and returned to his group of buddies.

  Kim and Sara took the remaining two stools at the bar, leaving me, Deuce, and Marty standing.

  Julie stepped up on her toes and kissed Deuce. “Gotta get to work.”

  “You’re working?” he asked, apparently surprised.

  “Why not?” she said, as she slid behind the bar and headed into the office with Rusty.

  The front door opened, and several people came in. I recognized some from around Marathon and a few other faces seemed familiar, but most were people I’d never seen before. Glancing out toward the parking lot at the stream of vehicles pouring in, I knew the place was about to get busy.

  “She always liked taking care of the guides, fishermen, and other locals,” I told Deuce. “She’s kept a lot of good ol’ boys in line since she was tall enough to see over the bar. Next to poling across the flats, it used to be her favorite thing. But this place is filling up with people I don’t know.”

  “Seems like mostly people from the Keys,” he said, nodding to a couple who’d taken a seat at a window table. “Those two live at the same marina where we berth the Caird; Jason and Tammy something. I don’t think they ever gave a last name.”

  I leaned over to whisper in Kim’s ear. “Can you get your mom to send you that email and then send it to me?”

  “I already have it,” Kim replied. “What do you need it for?”

  “So Chyrel can find out who it came from,” Deuce said, leaning in with a grin. He shrugged his shoulders. “Julie read about what happened on the internet. When you step on one toe, we all say ouch.”

  “You knew?” I asked.

  “Since about two weeks ago,” he replied, then leaned in closer. “Tony and Andrew are watching Eve’s home. Just as a precaution.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “And what would you have done?”

  He had me there. “Put Andrew and Tony on her house.”

  “Just saving you the trouble. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Probably,” I agreed. “Sandy pisses a lot of people off. But they’re mostly loud-mouthed activists.”

  Kim pulled her phone from her back pocket. “How do you know?” she asked as her thumbs moved across the screen with a speed that I couldn’t follow.

  “I don’t really. Just basing an opinion on past experiences.”

  When she shoved her phone back in her hip pocket, my own phone vibrated in mine.

  “Thanks,” I said, pulling it out.

  “Chyrel’s probably driving,” Deuce said. “Just wait till she gets here.”

  I nodded.

  “I’ve had a few pleasant enough conversations with her,” Marty offered about his mother-in-law. “She seemed like a nice lady. A bit nervous, maybe, but Kim and I were both in uniform. I don’t think she likes guns very much. Or maybe the uniforms made her jumpy.”

  I raised an eyebrow to Kim.

  “Her stance on guns is her choice,” she said. “One that she makes on her own. I choose my own way.”

  Rusty and Julie came out of the office and he moved behind the bar, coming to the end where we were. Julie grabbed stacks of menus and joined Naomi, passing among the tables and taking orders.

  “Dad said to tell you good luck,” Sara said to Rusty. “Not that you need it. He also said he wished he could be here.”

  “Just another day,” Rusty said.

  I looked around the room. It was already nearly as full as I’d ever seen it and people were circulating out on the deck, as well. This wasn’t going to be “just another day” at the Rusty Anchor.

  “You got anyone else working?” I asked. “It looks to me like you’re getting slammed.”

  “Jimmy’s gonna help behind the bar,” Rusty said, placing a beer in front of Dink and making a mark on a pad beside the register. “And Sid’s out back with Robin and Pam.”

  Robin was a flirtatious blonde who used to work at Dockside, back when I lived on my boat there. Since it was still closed from the storm, she worked at the Kmart and picked up shifts at half a dozen other bars whenever someone called in sick.

  “Can you use another server?” Kim asked cheerfully.

  “You wait tables before?” Rusty asked.

  “Up in Gainesville.”

  “You’re hired,” Rusty said, with a sideways glance to me. “Fifty bucks for the night, plus tips, same as Pam and Robin, and all you can eat.”

  Kim reached across the bar and shook Rusty’s hand. “Done.”

  “Julie and Naomi can cover in here. Pam’s got the stage mostly. Ask Sid how to split up the rest of the tables outside.”

  “Let me know when you go on stage,” Sara said, touching Julie’s arm as she came back. “I’ll cover your tables.”

  I spotted Eric Stone out on the back deck, talking with Dan Sullivan and another guy. I excused myself and followed Kim outside.

  “Hey, Jesse,” Eric said, as I approached.

  Dan turned and grinned. “What’s the craic, boyo?”

  “Looks like you’ll have a fine crowd,” I replied, feigning a snap left jab at Dan’s face.

  His head bobbed to the side and his hand suddenly appeared where my fist stopped. He lightly tapped my knuckles with his forefinger, then pointed at his ear. “Over here.”

  Dan and I sparred together now and then. He was quite good and had lightning-fast reflexes.

  “I’m getting by,” I said, shaking hands with both men.

  “Have you met Don?” Eric asked, introducing the other man.

  He was a big guy, younger than me, with a goatee starting to show a little gray. The lines around his mouth and eyes reflected a fun personality.

  “Not sure if I want to after that greeting,”
he responded, then stuck out his hand and smiled. “Don Middlebrook.”

  I recognized the name and shook his hand. “I’ve heard your songs. Name’s Jesse McDermitt.”

  “You play, Jesse?”

  “Learning,” I replied. “I wouldn’t quite call it playing yet.”

  “Took me a while before I could put two chords together.” He chuckled. “Then I wrote some two-chord songs.”

  “Get you guys anything?” Pam asked.

  They told her what they wanted, and she hurried off. Pam Lamarre worked at the local bank during the day and managed a couple of my trust funds. She returned quickly and explained, “I only have you guys and the two tables by the stage, so just nod if you need anything.”

  I spotted Chyrel walking from her car. “Good meeting you, Don,” I said, leaving the group and waving at her as I hurried across the lawn.

  “Hey, Jesse,” Chyrel said as I got near. “Good to see ya.”

  She gave me a quick hug and stepped back. “What’s up?”

  “Did you bring your computer?”

  “No, but I have my phone,” she replied, digging into her bag. “What do you need?”

  “I have an email from someone in Virginia. I need to know…”

  “The email to your ex, threatening her? I already have it.”

  “You do?”

  She took my arm and started for the door. “Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  The Thanksgiving feast and celebration continued through the evening, quieting only for sunset. There was never a water view of the setting sun from the Anchor; it never occurred far enough to the south to be visible even from the back of the property. But watching the sun come up over the bight happened almost year-round, except for a few weeks around the winter solstice, which was fast approaching. Still, people paused and looked toward where the sun slipped below the mangroves that lined the far side of the canal.

  Chyrel told me that the email to Sandy had originated from a rural part of Virginia, not far from the town of Staunton, but cautioned me that the area identified might not be where it came from at all, since IP addresses sometimes changed. It being a rural area, she explained, she felt certain she’d isolated it to one of several farms clustered in the area.