Motor Mouth - Janet Evanovich [79]
“I want to see what’s going on inside the boat. Let’s walk down the pier and look in the windows.”
We passed through the gate that said OWNERS AND GUESTS ONLY and walked the length of the wood dock. The Huevo boat was still tied up at the very end of the pier. Both decks were lit, but the salon and cabin windows were tinted and not much could be seen. A uniformed crew member stood watch.
Hooker took his cell phone out of his pocket and called the boat number. We could very faintly hear Huevo’s phone ringing inside the salon. A male voice answered and said that Ray Huevo was not available. Hooker didn’t leave a message.
“He could be in there,” I said. Wishful thinking.
“It’s unlikely.”
“But not impossible. Maybe we could see more from the other side.”
“Darlin’, there’s water on the other side.”
“Yeah, we need a boat.”
Hooker looked down at me. “And you would get one how?”
“We could borrow one. There are lots of little boats here. I bet no one would mind if we borrowed one for a couple minutes.”
“You want to steal a boat?”
“Borrow,” I said.
“Okay,” Hooker said, taking my hand. “Let’s go for a stroll and look around.”
We got to the last pier and Hooker stopped in front of a medium-size cabin cruiser. Dark inside. Nobody home.
“I know the guy who owns this boat,” Hooker said. “He’s only here weekends. And he keeps a dingy tied to the back. It should be easy to borrow.”
We climbed onto the boat and made our way to the back where the dingy was tied, just as Hooker had predicted. We scrambled into the boat, Hooker released the rope and turned the key. The motor hummed to life and Hooker pushed off.
“Keep your eyes open,” Hooker said. “I don’t want to run into anything.”
There was just a sliver of moon in the sky. The piers were lit and some of the boats had their running lights on. A few boats had interior lights on, as well, but not much light reflected onto the black water. The air was still. No wind. Not a lot of tide running.
Boats occasionally came and went at night here, but none was currently under way. Only us. We came abreast of the Huevo boat and sat at a distance, watching. Not much was happening. Windows and doors were closed and sound wasn’t carrying.
“Huh,” I said. “Disappointing.”
Hooker was fidgeting around in the dingy. He’d turned to the back and was poking through a watertight chest. “I might be able to produce some action. At least get everyone on deck so we can take a head count.”
I looked over his shoulder, into the chest. “What did you have in mind?”
Hooker pulled a snub-nosed, fat-barreled gun out of the chest. “Flare gun. I could lob a flare over the boat and maybe draw them out.” He two-handed the gun, holding it at arm’s length, raised the barrel so the flare would arc high, and pulled the trigger. A flare went off with a loud phunnf and sailed into the night sky. The flare gracefully curved up and away from us, reached its zenith, fell on a sloping downward trajectory toward the Huevo yacht…and crashed through a window on the first deck.
“Oops,” Hooker said.
The flare exploded with a burst of light that danced around the main salon like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Sound carried out through the gaping hole in the tinted window, and we could hear the hiss of the flare and the panicked voices of the people inside.
Hooker and I sat in stupefied, bug-eyed silence. There was a small explosion, and then the crackle of fire, and a yellow flame licked up the side of the salon.
“Oh shit,” Hooker whispered. “If I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.”
“You have some good luck. You have me.”
“I don’t have you. You won’t even sleep with me.”
“That’s true, but I’m here with you now.”
Hooker got that look in his eyes.
“No,” I said.
“How about you tie the anchor to my ankle and throw it overboard.”
“I have a better idea. How about we sneak away before someone sees us sitting out here.”
Five minutes later, we eased up behind the cabin cruiser, secured the line, and scrambled out of the dingy. Emergency vehicles were on the scene four piers down. Fire and