Obsidian (10 page)

The bell above the store’s door jingled announcing their return. Case looked up from behind the counter, straightening a little when he saw that Jamie was with Shelby. John Case was an imposing man with thick cut shoulders resembling tree trunks and a sense about him that made him appear older than he really was.

Shelby did little more than give a muffled hello before quickly disappearing into the back room, leaving him and Case alone out front.

“Did something happen at Marianne’s?” Case eyed him, over the display of canned goods.

“Not that I know. I offered to tag along to help her with the load. I thought I could get in good with the landlady.” He smiled, hoping his words didn’t sound as inane to Case as they did to him, but what else could he say? He wasn’t about to risk alienating the man. Working on the boat with Case gave him a perfect opportunity to get a good read on the man and his activities, while getting a good look at what was going on in the harbor.

“You must’ve passed muster for Shelby to give you a place to stay. She wouldn’t let you near the place if you hadn’t.”

“Funny, she said the same thing about you when I told her you’d offered me a job.” He met Case’s gaze for a moment before the other man turned away. Jamie knew when he was being sized up. It didn’t take a genius to know that Case suspected that there was something going on between Shelby and him.

The truth of it was that he wasn’t sure himself. He only knew that getting involved with her with be a mistake, no matter how beautiful or tempting the lady was.

Case poured himself a cup of black coffee from the pot on the counter and settled back with his mug into chair by the window. A strange smile crossed his face and Jamie wasn’t sure if he should run like hell or stick around to see what was on the man’s mind.

“It was nice of you to help. I try to help her out around here when I can and give her a hand when she needs one. It’s not easy since she prides herself on being so damned independent.” Case’s gaze narrowed as he looked at him over the rim of his mug.

Jamie picked up his own cup and poured himself some coffee. If this was another test he didn’t want to mess it up by saying the wrong thing.

“Shelby can take care of herself. It can’t be easy running this place by herself.”

Case’s hand stilled with the mug halfway to his mouth. “You’re right. Shelby has worked hard to keep this place going. It hasn’t always been easy. She’s not naïve, but she has a big heart and sometimes people think they can take advantage of it.” The warning was clear.

“It’s a good thing she’s got you and her brother to watch out for her.”

Case set his mug on the counter and came around, slapping Jamie good-naturedly on the shoulder. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

Case stood in front of the cash register. “How about we get you ready for tomorrow? You can’t go out without the right gear and from what I’ve seen you haven’t got much with you.”

Caught off balance by the sudden change in topic, Jamie put down his cup and went to stand in front of the shelves along the wall. A row of boots were lined up by size from the smallest to the largest, all the same navy-black color, and all the standing like tiny soldiers in a row.

“Not much in the way of making a personal fashion statement.”

Case chuckled, “No, but they get the job done.”

Both men looked down at his size eleven feet at the same time. “Let’s see if we can find some in your size.”

By the time they’d finished, Jamie had acquired a new pair of shiny, black rubber boots, some thick rubber gloves to protect his hands, and a pair of bright yellow coveralls. Hauling traps was hard dirty work. He’d need the gear to do the work.

They had fallen into a sort of companionable small talk.

“Do I detect an Irish accent?”

The older man nodded. “I came to America with my father and my brother. My mother died when I was a teenager.”

“That must have been quite a culture shock.” Jamie said, rolling his coveralls up and sticking a pair of heavy socks into the boots.

“Well, there wasn’t much left for us in Belfast.” He laughed, “We didn’t have much here, but we made do. I guess I never did quite lose the accent all together.”

Case was busy putting supplies into a box for delivery, but it was clear that his mind was on his memories.

“You’re brother was Shelby’s father?”

Case nodded. “When my brother met his wife he knew he wanted to start a life here in Maine with her. They started this business, kept it running by themselves and had two kids. They did okay for themselves for quite awhile until his wife died of cancer. The kids were still pretty little. After that, he barely managed to keep it all going and raise two kids on his own.”

“It couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t, but he realized that this was the best place for him to raise his children. He could have packed it in and gone back to Ireland. By then our Dad had moved back and I was going to University in Belfast. But we’d seen too much violence growing up for him to want that for his kids. He figured running this place meant he could be here for them.” He shrugged. “After he died I came here to help out the kids.”

“I’m sure they appreciate it.”

“I did what I could. Both of them were kind of shell-shocked.”

He leveled a hard gaze at Jamie. “I’d hate to see her hurt more. She needs someone who is steady and stable.”

The message was received and clear. Shelby Teague was off limits.

“Is that why she married a lobsterman? Because he was steady and stable?”

Case moved the box out of the way and started packing another. “He was a good man. A bit of a dreamer, but he made her happy. I could overlook his short comings if he made her happy.”

“You said you went to University. Were you always a lobsterman?”

Case hesitated. “No, I only did a year or so before I joined the Royal Navy.” Case gave a shrug of his wide shoulders. “After that I spent a lot of time doing a lot of different things.”

Case put his coffee cup on the stand behind the counter. There was much more to what he’d said, more than what he was letting on, but he’d already pushed too much for today.

It’d be best to keep him on his side if possible. He had other leads to look into and right now his first priority was to find out how Josh was making his money for his boat.

“I was hoping to meet Josh this morning. I guess I just missed him.” A shadow of concern crossed Case’s face before it disappeared.

“He left early this morning to go hauling. I suspect that you’ll meet him at dinner. That is, if the boy can manage to get himself back in early enough.”

Jamie let it go. He suspected that he’d won a grudging, temporary acceptance from the man and he wasn’t about to screw up his chances by asking too many questions at once. He’d just have to seek another route to get the information he needed.

The twenty-four foot Bayliner was anchored snugly in the sheltered cove off the south side of the island. They’d acquired it in Florida, appropriating it from a shipyard off St. Augustine before making the trip North. The boat was small enough to blend in, but large enough to get the job done.

Aside from a couple of storage sheds, the seasonal island cottage was the perfect place for them to work without calling attention to their presence. From the outside, they looked like nothing more than a couple of late-season fisherman out trying to catch their limit.

He watched the horizon, just as he had since they’d arrived. As near as he could tell, no one had noticed the raft they’d buried under the dense brush surrounding the cove. Nor had they noticed the occasional switch of men standing watch on the boat and in the yard.

Just one more week and the last shipment would be done. After they made the last exchange they be free to sink the boat and get rid of any other signs that they’d been using the island.

His stomach churned, reminding him that the wear on his nerves was gnawing a hole in him. The sooner they were done with it, the better.

Pushing his sunglasses further up his nose, he squinted out over the water. There wasn’t much around this forsaken place, just a hundred and eighty or so islands in which they could get lost while they did their business. So far, they’d managed to escape the attention of the locals. They’d even bargained for a couple of lobsters from one of the passing lobster boats.

The beep of his cell phone caught his attention. He flipped it open and punched the button.

“It’s a go.” The old man said from the other end of the phone.

This was the call they’d been waiting for.

“Okay on this end.” Caruso answered.

“He’s already in your area. You owe me this one. Don’t let me down.”

Caruso stifled a sigh. He wasn’t about to forget how much they owed the old man.  “We’ll handle it.” Caruso said.

“Good. Just make it so that he isn’t a problem anymore.”

“Understood. Just remember that this makes us even. What you’re asking for isn’t small. He could be extra trouble.” The last thing they needed was to worry about a body turning up.

“Don’t worry about outside trouble.” The old man said. “I’ll take care of it. I have so far, haven’t I? Just do as I ask.”

The line went dead without the need for response.

Caruso flipped his phone shut and took a sip of his soda as he settled back into his chair, his bait-less fishing rod settled between his knees.

This was beginning to fell like a huge mistake, but then, they had little choice. Their partnership with the old man was tentative at best and the most he could hope for was that it would end soon.

And, since he wasn’t in the habit of leaving loose ends, he intended to do it right. When the time came, the partnership would be terminated along with the partner.

Caruso flipped his sunglasses down over his eyes. He heard the sound of an engine before he saw it. He sat up straight in his chair as a green and white fishing boat came around the point and into the small island inlet.

He put a hand up to shield his eyes as the boat circle close by. Maybe, they were just pulling a line of traps and would soon be on their way?

He reached down and picked up his binoculars, leveling his gaze at the boat. No such luck, the man was pulling on a wet suit and gathering up diving apparatus.

This wasn’t good. The last thing they needed was a witness when it came time to pick up the drop.

He watched the man slip on a mask and hoist a tank onto his back, levering himself over the edge of the boat and into the water. He had no intention of leaving anytime soon and that was too bad, because now they were going to have to do something about him.

Caruso nudged Taimon who was dozing in the seat next to him and handed him the binoculars, nodding in the direction of the newly arrived boat. Setting down the binoculars, Taimon nodded at Caruso. They were already in agreement. They both knew what had to be done.

Reeling in his line, Caruso pulled anchor as Taimon fired up the boat engine.

With one last glance toward their island retreat, Caruso reached inside his jacket and pulled his gun out of the shoulder holster. He sighed. There was never such a thing as an uncomplicated job.

Jamie picked his way up the gravel path that ran along the shoreline. The sun was making its descent beyond the trees. Normally, he’d be all about the sunset, but tonight he had too much on his mind to enjoy the view.

He hadn’t found out much today. Certainly nothing that could really help him. Maybe tonight he’d have better luck talking with some of the locals. Maybe one of them would give him some sort of a clue that would lead him in the right direction.

He stopped, admiring the view. Rocks sheltered a small beach facing out to the Atlantic. Pine trees topped the deep cliff sides making it feel even more isolated. He breathed in the fresh salt air. Lobster buoys were clustered in the shallow water near to shore and spread out wider as the water deepened.

If he’d been a pirate it’d be a perfect place to hide a treasure. Remote and reclusive, this was a private sanctuary far away from the outside world. These islands had been hiding places for centuries. It wouldn’t be too hard for someone to disappear and not be found for quite some time.

This was the perfect place to do whatever was needed, without being seen.

He looked out at the many islands filling the harbor. Some of the islands were nothing more than rough outcroppings of rocks and seaweed, while others were covered with trees and brush and enough land to support life. There was any number of places someone could hide.

He scanned the horizon and sighed. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a neon sign pointing him the direction he needed to go. He was going to have to figure this one out for himself.

He started to make his way back down the rocks when something in the seaweed caught his attention. Bracing himself, he reached down and pushed away the seaweed, uncovering a shrink-wrapped package with brown matte butcher paper beneath the plastic covering.

He picked it up. It was small, maybe no more than ten inches square and secured with thick, plastic-coated flexible wire. The rope was the heavy kind used for trap lines and it had been secured with duct tape, the rope trailing off into the water.