The Narrows - Michael Connelly [10]
“That’s—well, not exactly.”
“What do you mean? Who was on the boat?”
“On the second night going into Cabo we got stopped by the federales. The Mexican Coast Guard. Two guys came on board and looked around for a few minutes.”
“Why?”
“It’s sort of a routine. Every now and then they stop you, make you pay a little tariff, then they let you go.”
“A bribe?”
“A bribe, a payoff, a bite, whatever you want to call it.”
“And that happened this time.”
“Yeah, Terry gave them fifty bucks when they were in the salon and then they split. It was all pretty fast.”
“Did they search the boat? Did they look at Terry’s medicine?”
“No, it didn’t get to that. That’s what the payoff is for, to avoid all of that.”
I realized I hadn’t been taking notes. A lot of this information was new and worth exploring further but I sensed that I had enough for the moment. I would digest what I had and come back to it. I had a feeling that Buddy Lockridge would give me whatever time I needed, as long as I made him feel like a player in the investigation. I asked him for the exact names and locations of the marinas where they had docked overnight on the trip with Otto and I did write this information in my notebook. I then reconfirmed our appointment on McCaleb’s boat for the next morning. I told him I was taking the first ferry across and he told me he’d be on it as well. I left him there because he said he wanted to go back into the chandlery to pick up some supplies.
As we dumped our coffee cups into the trash can, he wished me luck with the investigation.
“I don’t know what you’re going to find. I don’t know if there is anything to find, but if Terry had help with this, I want you to get whoever it was who helped him. You know what I am saying?”
“Yes, Buddy, I think I know what you are saying. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.”
5
ON THE PHONE that night from Las Vegas my daughter asked me to tell her a story. Just five years old, she was always wanting me to sing to her or tell her stories. I had more stories than songs in me. She had a scruffy black cat she called No Name and Maddie liked me to make up stories involving great peril and bravery that ended with No Name winning the day by solving the mystery or finding the lost pet or the lost child or teaching a bad man a lesson.
I told her a quick story about No Name finding a lost cat named Cielo Azul. She liked it and asked me for another but I said it was late and I had to go. Then, out of the blue, she asked me if the Burger King and the Dairy Queen were married. I smiled and marveled at how her mind worked. I told her they were married and she asked me if they were happy.
You can become unhinged and cut loose from the world. You can believe you are a permanent outsider. But the innocence of a child will bring you back and give you the shield of joy with which to protect yourself. I have learned this late in life but not too late. It’s never too late. It hurt me to think about the things she would learn about the world. All I knew was that I didn’t want to teach her anything. I felt tainted by the paths I had taken in my life and the things I knew. I had nothing from it I wanted her to have. I just wanted her to teach me.
So I told her, yes, the Burger King and the Dairy Queen were happy and that they had a wonderful life together. I wanted her to have her stories and her fairy tales while she could still believe them. For soon enough, I knew, they would be taken away.
Saying good night to my daughter on the phone felt lonely and out of place. I had just come off of a two-week trip out there and Maddie had gotten used to seeing me and I had gotten used to seeing her. I picked her up at school, I watched her swim, I made dinner for her a few times in the small efficiency apartment I had rented near the airport. At night when her mother played poker in the casinos I took her home and put her to bed, leaving her under the watch of the live-in nanny.
I was a new thing in her life. For her first four years she had never heard of me and I had never heard