Juan is an open book and has no problems sharing his life story with us, at least what he can in the six-minute ride to the docks where all of the excursions take place. We wait for everyone to disembark before Roger stands up. He slaps his hand on the bulkhead and leans forward to ask Juan one last question. “Is this the only shuttle?”
“There are two,” Juan says. “You won’t have to wait longer than half an hour, but I should warn you. The last shuttle leaves downtown at 7:30 at night and here at 7:50. After that, you’ll either have to walk or call a cab.” Juan hands us a business card for the local cab company that operates between Marathon and Key West.
“Thank you, Juan,” I say. “You’ve been a tremendous help.”
“I aim to please,” he replies.
Roger and I hastily exit the bus to allow those who are waiting to board. He steps aside under a palm tree and pulls out his phone, opening the security app and tapping away. “What areyou doing? Did someone break into the cabana?” I ask, pulling out my phone and wondering why I didn’t get an alert.
“No. I’m activating the camera I attached to the bulkhead inside the bus. We now know that the shuttle stops running at 8:00 p.m. when it returns to drop off the last passengers. There was no reason for it to be transporting over two dozen passengers in the middle of the night. We need to make sure that we hitch a ride on the second bus so I can attach another camera. Since we don’t know which shuttle was the one we saw last night, we need to have eyes and ears in both.”
I’m glad he thought to bring a few cameras along and tell him as much. “You should text Carter and tell him to cover the boat with those things. I’d much rather watch what’s happening from the safety of our cabana than get caught snooping around.”
“It’s not necessary. It looks like Jessie and Elijah are already on it.” Roger pulls up a list of all active cameras and notes that eight have been activated in the past two hours. He scrolls through the feeds and laughs when he sees Jessie retching over the side of the boat as it bounces on the rough waves. He takes a quick screenshot and smiles. “This is going on the ‘Wall of Shame’ back home.”
He pockets his phone and reaches for my hand. We act like tourists and check out all the different excursions available to us, stopping and chatting with people along the way. The sunset dinner cruise and dolphin encounter have piqued my interest, but Roger is all about the parasailing adventure and kayaking excursion.
“I haven’t been on a real vacation in almost ten years,and I’ve always wanted to go parasailing,” he says as we arrive at the boat rental kiosk.
“I’m not afraid of heights. I’m willing to give it a go if you are.” I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze. “Didn’t Jessie say that we need to blend in and have some fun?”
Roger opens his mouth to say something when the salesperson interrupts. “Welcome to Float Your Boat! We have hourly, half-day, all-day, and weekly rentals of anything that floats and has a motor.
I let go of Roger and turn around to face a very tan man with long, blond dreads pulled into a low ponytail. He’s wearing a tank top, board shorts, and leather sandals with a name tag that reads “Mike.”
“We’re interested in renting a boat for the week. What do you have available?” I ask. “I want something sleek and fast, like my husband here.”
Roger raises an eyebrow at me. “Sweetheart, no man wants to be referred to as ‘fast’ unless we’re in an Astin Martin One-77 on the Autobahn.”
Mike laughs. “I don’t have anything that will go 220 mph, but I think I have what you’re looking for and in multiple price ranges. Follow me.” Mike calls out for a man named Jack to watch the front while he shows us his inventory.
We follow Mike around the building and see a Marina with roughly two dozen boats and almost twice that number in personal watercraft. “Wow, that’s quite a selection,” I say in awe.
“We cater to the resort, but we also offer rentals to vacation goers in town. You’re here at the beginning of the week, but during the weekends, the marina is nearly empty. Ourspeedboats are over here,” Mike says, gesturing to the last row.
Roger doesn’t go more than a few steps before he sees the boat he wants. “We’ll take the Velocity 230 SC. I see that it has a Mercury 300 XP four-stroke engine with a top speed of roughly 100 mph.”
“Color me impressed, a man who knows his boats and has good taste,” Mike says, eyeing me up and down appreciatively.
Roger notices and slides his arm around me in both a protective and possessive gesture. “That, I do. Shall we get the paperwork started?”
“Sure thing. The rental rate for the Velocity is $10,000 per week unless you are a guest of the resort. Then, it’s $9,000 for those staying in the standard suites and $7,500 for those residing in the cabanas. I also highly recommend the insurance. It saved one couple several thousands of dollars just last week.”
I gasp. “Oh, no! What happened? Were they in an accident?”
Mike waves away my concern. “Nothing like that. They rented the boat and never returned it, but it was found a few days later in Key Largo, a hundred miles north of here. Otherwise, it would have been a total loss. There was some hull damage, and the engine was totally fried. I don’t know what happened to the couple, but since the boat was reported stolen, it’s up to the police to figure out. The insurance they purchased covered all the repairs.”
“Sounds like we should get the insurance,” Roger quips. He signs the paperwork and writes down our lodging information.
Mike frowns when he reads it. “That’s kind of crazy. You’re staying in the same cabana as the other couple. What are the odds?”
Chapter twelve
Roger
Islip Mike a hundred-dollar bill and ask him to deliver the boat to the pier at the back of our cabana once he closes down shop for the evening. Based on my tattered boating license, he waived the lesson that would generally be required and readily agreed.
I place my hand on the small of Harper’s back to guide her down the boardwalk. “Would you like to get some ice cream, Angel? We have a few extra minutes before the shuttle arrives.”
