Trap Line - Carl Hiaasen [27]
“Well, if you ever try it,” Albury said, “I hope you have better luck than me. I swear, Teal, when things go to hell they go in a hurry.”
Teal scratched at his arms. The mosquitoes were in fine form. “Breeze, there was something I meant to tell you … let me think…”
Albury was accustomed to waiting on Teal. All day in an open boat, Teal could be excused for his jumbled thoughts. The sun off the mud flats could putty your brain.
“I know what it was,” Teal erupted. “Your traps!”
“They got cut.”
“Right, right. But I found a bunch of markers.”
“Where?”
“On a flat off Boca Grande. I was out there on a permit charter two days ago.”
“How many?” Albury asked, his mind working. It was a good forty miles from the Cobia Hole to Boca Grande.
“Breeze, there must have been a couple hundred. The water was orange with them,” Teal said. “It was a helluva sight. I knew they were yours.”
“Whoever cut me must have dumped ’em there.”
“I saw a boat leaving, too,” Teal volunteered. “Now, I didn’t get a name, but it was a crawfish boat, a fast one.” Teal said he thought it was a Key West boat, possibly a Torres.
“Radar?” Albury pressed.
“I think. I think so.” Teal was straining now, brow furrowed, eyes framed by deep crow’s-feet. “I didn’t chase it or anything.”
“Probably one of Tom’s boys,” Albury muttered.
“The reason I tell you is that they are probably still out there. The wind hasn’t blown much, and if they float up against the islands you got a chance of getting ’em back. I know it’s not as good as finding the whole trap, but it’ll save you a few dollars, getting those buoys back.”
“Sure will,” Albury said. “Thanks, Teal.” He patted his friend on the back, but he didn’t have the heart to tell him that the markers were ancient history. Albury had no use for them anymore.
Chapter 7
LAURIE SAT ON the bed in a thin lime-colored T-shirt. Albury stuffed random handfuls of underwear, shorts, and ratty boat pants into an old duffel bag. He crammed a wad of fifty-dollar bills into a pair of socks and tossed them in with the rest.
“So it’s a big secret. Again,” Laurie said sharply.
“It would be no good for you to know.”
“It has to do with the bust, doesn’t it?”
Albury stopped packing and sat down next to her on the bed. When he kissed her on the cheek, his eyes involuntarily dropped to her breasts and the reddish thatch of hair, dangerously visible through the shirt. Albury did his best to change the subject, but Laurie was in no mood.
“This will look bad, Breeze, you leaving like this.”
“Just for a few days.”
“Bobby Freed says he’s going to have the grand jury call you in for questioning. He wants you to talk about Barnett. He knows your case was fixed….”
“Hold on. What do you mean, he knows? Did you—”
Laurie tossed her head back and laughed sarcastically. “No, I didn’t say anything. Jesus, Breeze, give me a little credit. I’m trying to help is all. I’m trying to give you a little fair warning that this thing will not go away. I love you, sometimes, but the dumbest thing you could do right now is run another load for those goddamn hoods.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. I promise.”
She stared at him and her eyes softened. “Then what?”
Albury aimed a kiss for a stellate freckle on her neck, but Laurie dodged him. “Why won’t you tell me?” she asked.
Albury rose, sighed out loud, and ambled to the living room where Ricky was watching television. The kid saw the duffel bag and looked up inquiringly.
“I’ll be gone for a few days,” Albury said softly. “Watch after Laurie.
Ricky picked himself off the floor. “Going south?” he said, grinning.
“Naw.” The kid’s smile made Albury’s heart dive like a wounded bird. Everything he cared about was on the line this time. “I’m gonna be up the Keys for a few days is all.”
“Need another hand?”
“No, thanks.”
“C’mon, I’m sick of flipping burgers. I could use the fresh air.”
“No way.”
“God, Dad, you must think I’m still a baby.”
Albury threw an arm around Ricky. “Son, you got baseball practice and your slider