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“Right. Neighbors,” smirked the man.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere. How many boats do you have that run, Mr. Couvillion?” asked Matthew.
“I got six boats. Five run but are on their last legs. This will all be a bad nightmare by March. Ain’t gonna last longer than that.” Matthew took out his checkbook and wrote a check with more zeroes than there should have been.
“That’s a fair price for your business. You want out. That’s the only offer I’m going to make.”
He grabbed the check, staring down at the numbers. This must be a joke. The business wasn’t even worth a third of that price.
“This check good?” he frowned, staring at the three men.
“It’s good,” said Matthew. “Take the money. You won’t get a better offer. It’s for the business, the houses on Bayou Trail, all of it.”
Couvillion never even replied. He tucked the check in his pocket, grabbed his truck keys, and sped away.
“I guess that’s a yes,” smirked Tailor. “Looks like you own a fishing business.”
“I’ve been meaning to branch out,” smiled Matthew. He looked at the building, then back at the boats sitting in their berths. “See if Grant can send one of the boys over to begin repairs on this building and the shacks. Go back and let those folks know they’ll be taken care of for the next two months and that they’ve all received pay raises. Fair, marketable pay for the work they do. We won’t be sending any men back out there until I can be sure we have all the right equipment to do this correct. I also wanna make sure the boats are safe, and if they’re not, we’re gonna get new ones.”
“You’re something else, Pops,” said Alec, kissing his father’s forehead.
“That’s what your mother says.”
CHAPTER SIX
“He bought a what?” screeched Jean.
“A fishing company,” laughed Alec. “The place is a mess, but Pops was just trying to help the folks that live on Bayou Trail. Those shacks are a damn mess. He’s paying them for two months of work while we get the boats in better shape. I think Mr. Ray is too old to run the place, but there are a few others that are just as good and been doing it a long time.”
“Well, I guess we eat enough fish that it makes sense to own a fishing business,” shrugged Jean. “One more thing to add to the books.”
“How are we doing on the research for the toys?” asked Antoine. The entire senior team was meeting on Halo Island, away from prying eyes. They’d already cleared the island of debris, ensuring that the paths were safe to travel.
“Rafe and Baptiste have been spending a lot of time at the boys’ home. Keith is helping us with everything we need to know for the kids at the school. Ryan and Doug are working on some things on the side, so everyone doesn’t know. They already developed a new plastic material that’s weatherproof, sunproof, and windproof. Our facility in Michigan is manufacturing thirty artificial Christmas trees using the material.
“When they’re done, we’ll put the trees on the island using concrete bases. They’ll be permanent but can be decorated for any time of year and provide shade. Ian and Ghost wanted to go big, so they’ll be twenty-foot trees.”
“Twenty feet? Do we have enough ornaments to decorate trees that big?” asked Luc.
“We’ve got Zeke and Max going to all the usual spots that Noelle visits to get decorations for Mama. They bought out the lights at the first two places. The owner wasn’t sure whether to be pissed or grateful.”
“I suppose we’ll have to figure out a way to secure the ornaments to the trees so they don’t blow off if we get bad weather,” said Tailor. “Man, I can’t wait to see the look on the kids’ faces when they go out there.”
Miller, Sven, and Vince walked up, shaking their heads as they argued.
“I told you I didn’t know anything about little girl stuff,” said Sven.
“How hard can it be to find doll shit?” growled Miller.
“What’s wrong?” asked Nine with a smile.
“We have a lot of little girls at the school,” said Miller. Nine nodded. “They all want the same thing. Some damn doll that’s the hottest fucking toy in the country right now. Eleven dolls are what we’re looking for. Eleven! These idiots couldn’t find one.”
“You were with us, idiot,” laughed Vince.
“Okay, okay, we’re professionals. We do this shit all the time. We know how to source shit out and find what we need. It can’t be that hard,” said Ghost.
“It’s fucking hard,” sneered Miller. “They’re these damn dolls that cost a fortune, have a whole wardrobe you can buy with them, and they have their own books.”
