Straits of Fortune - Anthony Gagliano [86]
I was lying on my back, and I couldn’t feel my body, but it didn’t seem to matter much, not when I could float like this. After a while somebody started to tell me a story, not with words but with pictures. There was a beautiful black-haired woman. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out when she spoke. There were three men standing over me as the black-haired woman rubbed my cheek with the palm of her hand. Everybody seemed very familiar. I smiled up at them. They weren’t as pretty as the stars, but they were a lot closer.
Then one of the men—the biggest of the three—bent over, and I felt a stinging sensation across my face. And all at once I remembered who I was and that the strange dream I’d awakened into was real.
“Wake up, Jack,” Vivian said. She was kneeling beside me like a nurse.
I looked up at her, then at the three men standing above us. One of them was young. That would be my buddy Nick. Check. One of them was on steroids. That would be Williams. Check.
The third man was the Colonel. Check.
The girl was Vivian. I looked her over. Not bad, I thought.
That left me. I was Jack. Jack Vaughn, personal trainer to psychos and killers. Former cop and cop killer. My hobbies were sinking yachts, finding dead bodies, and running from other cops. It’s a great way to stay in shape. A lot more exciting than yoga or tai chi, I’ll tell you that much. In a deranged sort of way, it was all starting to make sense.
I found my legs and got slowly to my feet. Vivian helped. I looked around. It was night, all right. We were standing on the beach about twenty yards from the ocean, next to a long wooden pier that reached into the sea. There were no houses around, but I guessed we were somewhere near Edgewater. I brushed the sand from my clothes and smiled at the Colonel. He was wearing a black, two-piece running suit and looked like a fit and trim retiree out for an evening jog. He smiled down at me benignly, as though he had just happened upon me lying there in the sand.
“We were starting to worry about you,” he said. There was true compassion in his voice, which seemed odd given the fact that Williams was pointing his gun at me again. “I was afraid that Rudolph had given you an overdose.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That would be illegal.”
There was sand on my face, and I brushed that off, too. Williams took a step back, but he needn’t have bothered. I was still way too woozy to try anything even vaguely heroic.
Nick took a last drag from his cigarette and flicked the butt past my ear.
“Stupid right to the end,” he said.
“Shut up,” Vivian said. “He saved us all. Isn’t that right, Daddy?”
“Well,” I said, “I guess the Partridge Family is back together again.”
“What time does the boat get here?” Nick asked. “I’m not going to stand out here all night listening to this idiot make his asinine remarks.”
I looked at Williams. “You’re not much without a gun in your hand, are you?” I said.
“You’re not much either way,” Williams said. “I proved that at the hotel.”
“So what’s the deal now?” I asked. “Can I go home?”
“Vivian and Nick and I have come to an agreement,” the Colonel said.
“And I don’t agree with it one bit,” Nick said testily, scanning the ocean as he spoke. I looked with him. Far off, coming in at a good clip from the west, was some kind of boat. Williams saw it, too. He glanced quickly at his watch.
“What kind of agreement?” I asked.
“My daughter has agreed to go with the rest of us, in return for which, after we’re gone, Williams will let you go. In a few weeks, once he’s sure we’re safe, he’ll join us in our new home.”
“And where’s that, Andy? Havana?”
The Colonel smiled. “I’m a man of the world, Jack. One place is as good as the next—as long as you have the money to afford it. As far as you’re concerned, it’s really quite simple. Just keep your mouth shut. You’re fifty grand ahead of the game. Keep it that way.”
“Hey, do me a favor,” I said. “While you’re there, ask Fidel if he needs a personal trainer. He looks a little fat, if you ask me.”
“I can’t stand this any longer,