Flush - Carl Hiaasen [37]
“Have you seen her?” Mom asked again. “We’re getting worried.”
“Nope.” Dusty was wearing a baggy, fruit-colored shirt that was decorated with palm trees. A fat soggy cigar wagged in the corner of his downturned mouth. Fortunately it wasn’t lit; otherwise we would have gagged on the smoke in that closet-sized room.
“Let me check with Luno,” he said, and spoke gruffly into a walkie-talkie. Then he looked up and addressed my father: “Paine, I’m a little surprised to see you out and about. The sheriff told me you were under house arrest.”
“I was,” Dad said, “until my daughter went missing.”
His jaw was set and his shoulders were bunched. He was wound up as tight as a spring, and I thought that any second he might pounce on Dusty Muleman, who was smaller and flabbier.
Mom must have been thinking the same thing. She snatched the sharp gaff from my father’s hand and carefully placed it upright in a corner.
“Dusty, listen,” she said. “Paine’s got something he wants to say.”
“I do?” Dad said.
“Yes, you do. Remember?” my mother replied pointedly. “You wanted to apologize for what happened to the Coral Queen.”
I burst out coughing like I was having a seizure. I couldn’t help it.
“Apologize?” my father said numbly.
“Yes, Paine, we had this discussion the other night.” Mom’s tone was pleasant but determined. “You and Dusty have known each other too long to let this kind of situation get out of control.”
“Donna’s right,” Dusty said. “All those years we fished out of Ted’s, we never had a problem.”
Dad was steaming, but there wasn’t much he could do. Dusty had promised to drop the criminal charges only if Dad agreed to behave. Mom must have figured that this was as good a time as any for Dad to start acting remorseful, even if he didn’t mean it.
“Fine,” my father said stiffly. “I’m sorry for sinking your boat.”
“Apology accepted.” Dusty smacked on the cigar, and his shifty gray eyes swung to me. “Son, I heard from Jasper Jr. that you’ve been givin’ him a hard time.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I said.
Dusty shook his head. Dad looked at me curiously.
“No, it’s the other way around,” I started to protest. “He and Bull …”
“He and Bull what?” asked Dad.
“Nothing.”
“Noah, what’s going on?” my mother said, like she’d already forgotten about my black eye. I figured she just didn’t want to stir up more trouble, with Abbey missing and Dad’s future freedom in Dusty Muleman’s hands.
Still, I had to bite back the urge to tell everything that had really happened between me and Jasper Jr. Dusty was clearly enjoying himself at my expense. He knew the truth, too. I could see by the way he smirked.
“I know it’s gettin’ more and more like Miami down here,” he said, “but a boy still ought to be able to go fishin’ without having to fight his way home. Don’t you folks agree?”
“Absolutely,” said my mother, although this time I detected a slight chill in her voice. When she glanced at me, I knew that she didn’t believe a word Dusty Muleman was saying.
I also understood that she expected me to suck up my pride and do what was best for the family, as my father had done.
“Tell Jasper Jr. it won’t happen again,” I said to Dusty.
“That’s the spirit.” He gave me a gloating wink.
The door swung open and Luno appeared. Up close the man was even taller and uglier than I remembered. His slick bald dome glowed pink in the pale light, and his smile was as crooked as his nose. A swatch of dirty-looking gauze was taped on one of his branch-sized forearms, probably where my sister had chomped him. In one hand he carried a walkie-talkie like Dusty’s; in the other hand was a half-empty bottle of beer.
“What’s up, chief?” he said to Dusty.
“You seen a young girl hanging around the docks tonight?”
“Girl?”
“Little kid,” Dusty said. “Curly brown hair, if I remember right.”
“Ash blond,” corrected my mother.
Luno’s shark eyes flicked to the wound on his arm. I wondered if he’d ever admitted to Dusty that he’d