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“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Shane asked. “And sometimes things change for the better,” Joey said. “People get a second chance.”
“People don’t change,” Wilson said.
Shane tensed as Joey leaned toward Wilson. “I think they do.”
“Gentlemen,” Carpenter said. “My friend Shane and I have a job to do.”
Joey stood. “I’m going with you.”
“I don’t think—” Shane began, but Wilson nodded.
“Some experience might be helpful.”
What the hell? Shane thought.
“We need the jet boat,” Carpenter said.
“All yours.” Wilson stood. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Torcelli.”
“I bet,” Joey said.
Wilson moved off to his boat, Carpenter with him to claim the jet boat, and Shane watched Joey’s eyes follow them. “What the hell was that?” he asked the old man.
“Nothin’ good,” Joey said, looking away.
Shane stepped closer. “You’re fucking with my life here, Joey. If you know something about this, anything about this, you tell me now. This is life and death, not some old mob game.”
“It was always life and death, Shane,” Joey said as Carpenter pulled up in the jet boat. “Guys like Wilson, they ain’t no different than the Don.”
“Damn it, Joey?—”
“We’ll talk in the boat,” Joey said, remnants of authority in his voice that told Shane something of what he’d used to be.
“You’re damn right we will,” Shane said, but he followed Joey onto the jet boat.
Carpenter stayed at the wheel in the center console of the jet boat. Shane locked down an M6o machine gun on the front pole mount and loaded a band of ammunition into it. Along one side of the jet boat, Joey was securing an orange coast guard logo. He’d already put one on the other side of the boat as they pulled away from Wilson’s cabin cruiser. Carpenter pushed the throttle forward and they picked up speed until the boat planed out and they were cruising out of the Blood River onto the Intracoastal. “Why am I doin’ this?” Joey said.
“It explains the machine gun mounted in the prow of the boat to anyone stupid enough to ask questions of a boat with a machine gun mounted in the prow,” Shane said, and then called to Carpenter. “Where are we putting the first receiver?”
Carpenter pointed at the GPS screen on the console in front of him. “On the eastern tip of Barataria Island. Second one, here on Middle Marsh Island, southern tip. Third one to the south, on Bull Island. That will give us good coverage.”
“Why are we looking on the water?” Joey asked, finished with his task.
“Casey Dean was on a boat the last time we saw him,” Carpenter said. “I think it makes sense he’s probably living on a boat. Makes him mobile in this area, and he can hide among the thousands of barrier islands and waterways.”
“This Wilson guy,” Joey said. “You like working for him?”
“I might not be working for him much longer,” Shane said.
Joey smiled. “You going to stay here?”
“No, I’m in line to get his job.”
The smile disappeared. “You want that?”
“It’s a step up,” Shane said.
“To where?” Joey asked.
