The Man at Nimbus Marina

Chapter One
Sunny Days

RAGS

Barnacles. They’re multiplying like crazy this summer, all over the boats at my marina.

It’s late June in South Florida, which means it’s hotter than the face of the sun. Feels like it, anyway. It’s barely an hour since daylight, and the humid island air is already so hot that I’m breaking a sweat just moving around the docks.

I shove a hand through my hair as I walk, and a whiff of Margot Callaway’s sweet scent wafts up from under my shirt. I showered, but I can still smell her on me.

Margot was sleeping, one long, muscular leg draped naked along the edge of my bed when I left this morning. My dog, Cap, was still in bed, too, his big ol’ labrador bones sprawled against Margot’s other side. The last thing I want to be doing right now is dealing with barnacles.

“Mornin’, Rags!” Ed Baxter shouts cheerfully when he sees me from a distance.

Ed is my stellar employee who manages Nimbus Marina. Without Ed, I’d be stuck here all the time. He’s a lifesaver.

“Back at you, my friend,” I say with a deep nod. “These blasted critters are going to be the death of me, though.”

Ed’s rich brown skin glistens in the morning sun, his deep brown eyes full of light. He swears he doesn’t mind the heat, or the barnacles. Ed doesn’t admit it, but I get the idea he enjoys seeing all the lovely ladies in their bikinis as they arrive to board their boats.

He just laughs at me and shakes his head.

“If you say so,” he says with a chuckle.

He’s getting older now, but back in the day, Ed was a professional baseball player. He spent most of his career playing for the Cincinnati Reds before retiring to the Keys for a slower-paced, quieter life. Ed did well for himself in Ohio. He’s independently wealthy and doesn’t have to work, if he doesn’t want to. But he insists that he enjoys tinkering with the boats and chatting up the customers.

When we first met, I was manning Nimbus Marina all by myself. Ed and I hit it off so well, we went out for burgers and beer to continue an hours-long conversation that had started on one of my docks. That lunch saw Ed leave with a job and me leave with a new friend who I entrusted to watch over my business. It was a win-win. It’s been several years since, and the pair of us are going strong.

I really shouldn’t complain, about the barnacles or anything else. My life is outstanding these days, if I do say so myself. It’s a far cry from the difficult conditions of my Navy SEAL days.

I’m literally living the dream on an island in the Florida Keys. I own a marina, a couple of nice boats, my own comfortable home, and a handful of investment properties. I’m set up nicely in that regard. The contract work I did for the few years after my Navy enlistment paid off, and now, I’m in the kind of financial position where I always wanted to be.

Finding the right balance between my duties and all the fun I like to have is the trick.

If I were a less responsible man, I’d let the barnacles wait until another day, then I’d run home and climb back into bed with my loves. Cap would groan as I moved him out of the way, but he’d get over it. Then I could slide close and make love to my woman, starting the day off right. She’ll be awake and nosing around for breakfast soon.

“Where’s that pretty lady of yours this morning?” Ed asks as he approaches with a scraper and scrub brush.

He can tell what I’m thinking. More importantly, he’s poised to help me remove the new barnacle growth.

For my own boats, I take them out to the sandbar every couple weeks and scrub them there. I do it with a beer in my hand and Bob Marley music blasting in the background. I don’t think the owners of the other boats docked at Nimbus Marina would want me taking care of theirs that way, though. So, with the help of our part-time staff, Ed and I dry dock, scrape, scrub, and powerwash. It’s a tedious process that takes hours and usually involves cursing like a sailor.

Admittedly, beer and Bob Marley are still an integral part of the process.

“She’s at home. Still in my bed,” I say with a sly smile.

“Ooh-wee,” Ed replies with a whistle and a smack of his lips. “If I were you, I’d be there with her right now, instead of out here with me.”

He gestures up in the air as he says it, as if this place isn’t paradise.

“True,” I say. “You aren’t nearly as pretty, my friend. And besides, I can see that ugly mug of yours anytime. Margot is supposed to return to her post at Naval Air Station Whidbey Island in a few weeks.”

We laugh out loud together as we work, content to shoot the shit. It helps pass the time. Clearing the barnacles takes a lot of elbow grease. Helps keep me in shape, I suppose.

Ed snorts, tipping his wide-brimmed straw hat. He wipes his brow with a handkerchief, then tucks it into the breast pocket of his short-sleeved shirt.

Ed’s usually dressed like he just came off of a yacht, or a golf course. Even at the ass crack of dawn, the man looks sharp. He looks a lot better than I do, me in my t-shirt. When I do wear a hat, it’s a ball cap.

“Been a while now, eh?”

I pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about.

“What has?” I ask, an innocent grin on my face.

The sun is rising quickly in the sky, and it feels like the temperature is climbing by the minute. It’s going to be a scorcher. We need to get whatever scrubbing we plan to do today finished by mid-morning. Otherwise, we’ll bake out here like a couple of oven-roasted clams. We’ll smell like them too. Nobody wants to see-- or smell-- that.

“You know what I mean,” Ed grunts. “You and that pretty Navy lady. Seems serious.”

I shrug playfully. “Yeah, so? What are you getting at, old man?”

I’m completely and totally in love with Margot, no doubt about that. We haven’t even known each other for a full month, but already, I know we’ll be together forever.

She’s my girl, like Randy Travis sings, forever and ever, amen. I always hoped that I’d recognize true love when I saw it. I’ve been waiting for the day the right woman would show up and rock my world. I want to be a dad before long, too. A family man. The whole nine yards. I’ve sewn my wild oats. I’m ready to commit with my whole heart.

Ever since the moment I saw Margot crouching beside that bus bench in her Navy t-shirt, I was done for. She was having a rough day that only ended up getting worse, and I hate that I walked into her life at such a bad time. But nothing mattered to me except being there for her.
Even though we’d just met and she was-- understandably-- freaked out by everything happening with her sister, grandpa and newfound brother, our connection was like nothing I’d ever felt.

As far as I’m concerned, the matter is settled. I want Margot to be my wife.

In fact, Independence Day is less than a week away. Since Margot and I are both Navy-- me a veteran SEAL and her an active duty Naval Flight Officer-- I thought it might be special to propose on the Fourth as fireworks sparkle overhead. Serving our country is fundamentally important to us. It seems appropriate to mark America’s birthday with a new beginning of our own.

I’ve been thinking of proposing for a while, but I haven’t told a soul. Well, other than Cap. I don’t expect him to spill any sensitive info. Dogs are good like that.

“Just askin’, is all,” Ed says with a smile.

He knows me too well. He can tell things with Margot are damn serious. I guess it would be nice to confide in someone.

“Can you keep a secret?” I ask as I move around to the shady side of the boat.

Ed lowers one brow and tilts his chin toward his chest as if I’ve deeply offended him.

“Rags Bertram, are you kidding?” he asks. “Isn’t that one of the reasons you befriended and hired me? I mean, let’s be real.”

To that, I make a similar face.

He isn’t wrong, but I didn’t know Ed was aware of my… secrets. Hell, I don’t even tell the locals that I’m former military. The only people on Hideaway Isle who know are Margot and a few members of her immediate family. I came to Hideaway Isle for a quiet life. The last thing I want is for ghosts of my past to find me down here.

As a SEAL, I was involved in some nasty stuff. Highly classified, nasty stuff. I prefer to leave those missions behind me.

I open my mouth to protest, but Ed’s right. Who am I kidding? I’ve never lied to the man, and I don’t intend to start.

“Alright,” I reply simply.

He looks at me expectantly, still scrubbing away as we chat.

“Go on,” Ed says with a wink. “Out with it. Your secrets are safe with me.”

He emphasizes secrets as being plural. Not singular. He knows there’s more than one. And he’s right.

I close my eyes for a beat as I think about getting down on one knee and asking Margot to be my wife. It will be my great honor to marry that remarkable woman. I just hope she’ll say yes. Surely, she will.

I move my scrub brush faster, full of nervous energy as I open my eyes and look at Ed. I’m not the nervous type. Not at all, actually. But Margot is the one thing in this world that gets me that way. I want to do right by her. I want to be the best I can possibly be.

“I’m thinking about proposing to my pretty lady,” I say. “On the Fourth.”

“Wowee,” Ed says.

He’s a sound effects guy. Everything is met with some version of a hoot, holler, or whistle. It’s one of the things I like most about him.

“It’s soon, I realize. But when you know, you know, right?”

“And do you know?” he asks.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I reply. “I’m hooked. Done for. That woman is everything I’ve ever wanted, and then some.”

“Then it sounds like a good thing,” Ed says.

I’m glad I told him. It feels more real now. Like I just spoke our engagement into existence.

“I think so.”

He muses as he works, making a mental checklist. I’ve been doing the same.

“You picked out a ring?” Ed asks.

I shake my head. “Not yet. I sort of have one in mind, though. I’m thinking about a classic round diamond with some smaller ones around it. I actually have some loose diamonds that belonged to my favorite grandmother, Bridget West. That woman was a dynamic, confident soul. Not to mention, she and my grandfather were married for nearly seventy years by the time they passed away. It happened in their sleep, while they were holding hands.”

“Nice,” Ed says. “Now, that’s the way to go.”

“Agreed. Margot reminds me a lot of Gramma Bridget, and I’d certainly like a long, happy marriage like my grandparents had,” I explain. “So, maybe I could use those family diamonds alongside a new, large stone that I pick out especially for Margot. Something old, and something new. You know how it goes…”

“Indeed, I do,” Ed says.

Ed’s lovely wife, Shirley, is the best part of him. He loves her dearly. They fuss and fight, but it seems to me like it’s more for show than anything. It’s their schtick. They usually laugh it off just as fast as they got into whatever scuffle is happening at the moment.

I’ve seen them together plenty. They’re the real deal. They have two grown children and a grandbaby on the way.

“Do you expect she’ll be okay with my grandmother’s stones? Or should I…”

“Don’t overthink it,” Ed says. “Do what your heart tells you. Then let it rest. You’ll make yourself crazy if you turn it over and over in your mind.” He laughs. “That’s good advice for everything in life, come to think of it. Overthinking is man’s worst enemy, I do believe.”

“I can see that,” I reply.

Ed is older, and maybe wiser. He’s wiser in some regards, no doubt. I’m grateful for the chance to hear his advice. All of my family is up in the Charleston, South Carolina area. I love them, and we’re close enough. But I don’t talk to them every day.

Ed here shares the day-to-day that my own dad and I don’t.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists. “She’ll like whatever you give her. It’s the significance of the gesture that matters.”

“I hope so,” I say as I wipe my brow with my forearm.
I should have brought a handkerchief like Ed did. I’m going to need another shower soon. The heat is oppressive if you’re doing anything other than relaxing in a shaded hammock or swimming in the crystal clear ocean water. Both of those activities sound mighty appealing right now.

Ed’s quiet for a few minutes, still thinking. It seems like he has more to say, but doesn’t want to overstep.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask.

He shrugs in a quick motion. “Nothing much,” he says. “Just know that I’ll handle things here. You don’t need to worry about this marina while you’re off galavanting with the bride-to-be. I’ll take care of this place.”

I lower my brow. The way he says it strikes me as odd, like there’s something specific I should worry about.

I don’t want to pry, but Margot and I have enough complications in our lives right now.

The matter of her needing to report back to Washington State soon is pressing, but that isn’t all. Her sister, Lottie Callaway, has been arrested and is in a lot of legal trouble that we need to help her out of. Also, Lottie’s girlfriend, Basia Guthrie, nearly died last week and needs help as she recovers. Basia’s mom is in town from Wisconsin, but they’re still getting reacquainted. Plus, we still need to hold a memorial service for Margot and Lottie’s Grandpa Vern.

Then there’s the matter of the strange bombings happening in South Florida that Basia thinks will somehow put Lottie in grave danger before it’s all over. Basia claims to have psychic powers. She also claims to have had a near-death experience where an angel lady showed her a big explosion where Lottie was tied up in the building before it blew to pieces.

Margot and I aren’t the types to dismiss Basia’s powers too readily. I’m open to the possibility that they might be real. Who am I to say they aren’t? I’ve experienced enough uncanny coincidences and seen enough miracles to believe there’s more out there than what we can perceive with our five senses. Besides, Detective Tom Marsh of the Hideaway Isle Police Department just gave Baisa a job using her powers to draw things that might help with local investigations. He apparently believes that what she can do is legit.

Bottom line, if Ed is concerned about something related to the marina, I want to know about it.

I get that Ed wants to protect me and take some of the load off, but I’m certain I can function better with everything out in the open. It’s one of my first rules, actually. Knowledge is power. I need to know what I’m facing to properly figure out a plan of attack.

“Ed,” I say, dropping my arms and looking at the side of his face as he works. “I appreciate you. More than you know. But don’t keep me in the dark, man. If something is going on, I want you to tell me about it.”

He keeps scrubbing away, avoiding eye contact. Now I definitely know something is up.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Nothing to bother yourself with.”

I shake my head, then grab Ed’s shoulders and turn him around to face me.

I don’t say anything else. He can tell I’m serious. He slumps, his body telling the tale that his mouth doesn’t want to. Something is weighing on him. I remain quiet, waiting patiently. I can do this all day, if I have to.

Ed stares out at the ocean as waves gently lap against the dock we’re standing on. They rock the boats in the marina like a gentle lullaby, as old as time. When he’s ready, he speaks softly.

“Last night,” he begins. “A couple of shady looking guys showed up here asking for you.”

He talks slowly, as if he can lessen the impact of the words if he slows their tempo.

“Okay,” I say. “What did you tell them?”

It’s probably nothing, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. For all the years I’ve lived down here, I’ve wondered if I’d be found. Wondered if what I’ve done would eventually catch up to me.

“I chased them off. Told them we don’t want any trouble. They went away quietly, but not before leaving this envelope for you.”

My back stiffens and I instinctively look around for signs of anything unusual. Ed definitely should have told me about this right away. He should have called me last night when the guys left. No way should he have waited and had me out here shooting the shit as if nothing is wrong.

Ed pulls a folded up manilla envelope from his back pocket. It’s rumpled, like it’s been held or carried a long way. It isn’t completely flat. It looks like there’s an object of some sort in there.

“Did you open it?” I ask, still glancing around like I’ve been trained to do.

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t… No, I didn’t. I was deciding how to handle it. I know you’re covered up right now. I want you out there celebrating the happy times, Rags. I want to take this burden from you. You’re a good man. You deserve the good things in life.”

I place a firm hand on Ed’s shoulder. “As do you, my friend. I don’t want you dealing with this either. Whatever it is, I doubt it has anything to do with you. You don’t deserve to be bogged down. Neither does Shirley.”

Ed’s eye flick to mine at the mention of his wife’s name.

Maybe he hadn’t thought about her being affected. In an instant, he understands that a couple of shady guys and an object in an envelope are a lot more serious than he probably thought at first pass.

He’s right to be worried about Shirley. I’m worried about Margot, too.

“What’s inside?” he asks, gesturing to the envelope.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “You want me to open it here?”

He nods. “I’m with you, man. Whatever may come.”

I’d like to tell Ed that everything will be alright, but I can’t do that. I fear we may be in critical danger. And the guys-- well, they saw Ed. They know where to find him. And they probably know his name. There’s no backing out for him. Not anymore.

I take another glance around to be sure no one is watching. When I’m satisfied that we’re alone, I tear into the envelope, careful not to damage what’s inside. I open it up and peer in to view the contents. The envelope is empty, except for a single marble chess piece. A black knight.

“What is it?” Ed asks.

I don’t need written instructions, and I don’t have to be told what this is. I know exactly what the knight means, and I know who it’s from.

This is very bad news. I’ve been found, which means everything and everyone I love is in danger.

My stomach drops and beads of sweat form on my brow. It’s hot outside, but this is a cold sweat. The kind the human body produces when it’s scared to death.

I allow myself less than a minute to regain my composure and react. I must spring into action, just like I’ve been trained. Thank God I’ve been trained. I just wish I didn’t have to use that training anymore. No matter, I will use it.

I’ll fight with every ounce of strength I possess to protect the ones I love. My dedication to them is absolute. I’ll face whatever may come with unyielding loyalty.

“Ed,” I say quietly. “Do you own a weapon?”