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“I know. I was hoping it wasn’t too bad. If this had been planned out I would have gotten a tarp. We only need one more night, and we’ll be out of here. We’ve been diving at night, so we wouldn’t be seen. The harbor is deep in the middle. Sixty feet. And that’s where the boat went down. Maria brings the gold up using lift bags, and we ferry it back to the boat in the RIB. Tonight we’ll bring the boat out and take off when we get the last of the gold…if it’s okay with you.”
“Sure,” Hooker said. “I wouldn’t want to see Castro’s gold go to waste.”
The birds had stopped chattering and had settled in for the night. The water was still. No trace of a breeze. The sun was a fireball, sinking into the island palms. Hooker and I were on deck, waiting for Bill and Maria.
“That was nice of you to let him use your boat,” I said to Hooker.
“I didn’t see where I had much choice.”
“You could have asked for some of the gold.”
Hooker was slouched in a deck chair, bare legs outstretched, eyes closed, arms crossed over his moth-eaten T-shirt. “I don’t need the gold.” He opened his eyes and looked over at me. “We’ve got a few minutes, in case you want to jump my bones.”
“I’ve got your number.”
“Oh yeah? What’s my number?”
“Every time you do something nice you have to follow it up with some asshole remark. Just to keep the balance. To keep things at a safe distance.”
“Think you’re pretty smart, hunh? Maybe I meant what I said. Maybe I’d really like you to jump my bones. Maybe bones jumping is what Texas NASCAR drivers do best.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind that Texas NASCAR drivers are excellent bones jumpers. It was the unromantic announcement that guaranteed failure.”
“Damn, I thought that was a good line. I thought I was being real classy. I didn’t even say anything about what a great rack you have.”
“You’re doing it again!”
Hooker smiled and closed his eyes. “Just funnin’ with you. We haven’t got enough time. When I finally let you jump my bones it’s going to go on for hours. And sugar pie, you won’t even see it coming.”
And the horrible part was…I believed him.
EIGHT
I heard the boat engine turn over upstream. Bill was moving out before he was in total darkness.
“He’s good at this, isn’t he?” I asked Hooker.
Hooker sat up. “At working the boat? Or at looting gold?”
“Working the boat.”
“He’s very good at working the boat. He’s one of the few people I’d trust to captain her. The Happy Hooker is a big boat with a deep draft. I’d need a whole crew to get me out of that estuary if I was at the helm. Even then I’d probably run into a bank.”
“But you think Bill and Maria can do it?”
“Yep. He couldn’t do it alone, but it sounds like Maria’s been around boats all her life. She’s probably a good mate. Bill would have asked if he needed my help. He doesn’t take chances with boats.”
The engine noise drew closer, and the boat appeared and stopped before moving into the more open water of the cove. Bill went to the prow, attached the remote to the windlass, and dropped anchor.
A half hour later, in total darkness, I heard the hoist swing out and set the RIB on the water. The sky was black and moonless. We knew the course of the RIB more by sound than by sight. A low-level hum. It was moving toward the middle of the small harbor. Then the outboard cut off. Snatches of muted conversation carried over to us. There was a soft splash and all was quiet.
“She’s diving to sixty feet,” Hooker said. “It’ll take her two minutes to get down and a minute to get up. And she’s probably got a little over an hour work time. She’s using lift bags to bring the gold up, so you’ll know she’s coming up when
you see the white bags.”
Forty minutes later, the lift bags bubbled to the surface like giant marshmallows, and a light appeared at the side of the RIB.
Hooker had taken a walkie-talkie from the Happy Hooker, and the talkie came to life.
