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“That’s got to be the entrance to their marina,” Jackson said, pointing at an inlet. “There’s no marker for it, but it can’t be anything else, given the location of the airport.”
“Let’s have a look at it,” Holly said. “Turn in there, Ham, and go slow.”
Ham throttled back nearly to idle and turned into the inlet.
“Water looks pretty deep here,” Jackson said.
Holly pointed to a group of masts rising above the low trees. “Got some pretty big boats in here, huh?”
“One of them has a satellite dish,” Ham said, pointing. “Probably a satphone. When we’re around this bend, we ought to be able to see the marina.”
As they were starting around the bend in the inlet, another boat suddenly appeared, going in the opposite direction. It was an open boat of about twenty-five feet, and a large spotlight was mounted on a thick mast next to a couple of radio antennae and a radar housing. A loudspeaker blasted across the water.
“Stop,” a metallic voice said.
Ham took the whaler out of gear and drifted. The larger boat came alongside, carrying two uniformed security guards. They were both wearing sidearms, and the one who wasn’t driving was carrying an assault rifle.
“This is private property,” the rifle bearer said, looking them over. “Turn your boat around.” He wasn’t actually pointing the weapon at them, but he appeared to be ready to do so.
“Sorry,” Ham called out. “What is this place?”
“I told you, pal, it’s private property,” the man replied. “Now turn that thing around or I’ll sink it for you.”
“Isn’t this part of the intracoastal waterway?” Jackson asked. “Isn’t this a public right of way?”
The man put down the assault rifle, picked up a boat hook, extended it to its full length and used it to hook the bow cleat on the whaler. “Okay,” he said to his companion. The man gunned the engine, spinning the whaler around, nearly dumping its occupants overboard.
Ham put the engine into forward gear to ease the strain on the cleat, but they were being towed at a good ten knots, and water from the bigger boat’s wake was coming over the bows of the whaler in rhythmic waves, soaking its three passengers. When they were back in the river, the guard released the whaler, and the boat’s driver spun his craft around and headed back into the inlet at high speed, creating a wake that nearly swamped the whaler.
“You son of a bitch!” Ham yelled.
Holly was bailing water out of the whaler. “You think maybe we’re not welcome in there?”
“Could be,” Jackson said.
“I’d like to go back in there with a shotgun,” Ham said.
“Now, Ham, don’t come over all military on me,” Holly said. “They just overreacted to our presence.”
Ham headed back toward Egret Island at high speed, the wind drying their clothes. When they were alongside the dock, he leapt out and headed for the house, Holly chasing him.
“What are you doing?” she yelled after him.
“I’m going to call Barney Noble and tell him what I think of his son-of-a-bitch security guards!” he yelled over his shoulder.
She caught up with him as he was lifting the phone. “Ham, don’t do that, please.”
“And why the hell not?”
“I don’t want Barney to think we were snooping around Palmetto Gardens.”
“Well, that’s what we were doing, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but I don’t want Barney to know it. I’m interested in that place, but I’ve got to move carefully. I’ve got an interview with the city council coming up, and I don’t want any complaints lodged.”
Ham slammed down the phone. “Well, shit.”
“Why don’t you have a beer and get your blood pressure down, Ham? I don’t want you stroking out on me.”
