Page 101 of The Newcomer
He must have read her mind. He leaned in close to be heard overthe din of the engine. “When this is all over, we’ll bring Maya out dolphin-watching. Okay?”
She nodded.
The boat thudded and rocked, the wind howled, and waves slapped at the bow. Finally, Joe pulled the throttle back and the Pathfinder slowed and then stopped.
“This is the ship channel,” he said. “It’s ninety feet deep here. Perfect place to bury a body.”
Letty turned and saw Vikki, leaning over the back of the boat, hurling her guts into the swirling green water.
“Aaaarggghhhh.” The FBI agent straightened and sank down onto the bench, wiping her mouth with the hem of her windbreaker.
“Are you okay?” Letty asked, sitting beside her.
“No,” Vikki said, closing her eyes. “I will never be okay until this voyage of the damned is over.”
Joe reached into the cooler at his feet and handed over a bottle of water. “Here. Take a sip. Slowly.” He pulled a small foil packet from a compartment in the console. “You want a Dramamine? You didn’t tell me you get seasick.”
“You didn’t tell me we were heading out to sea in gale-force winds,” Vikki shot back. “If I’d wanted a roller-coaster ride I’d have gone to the county fair and ordered a corn dog. Now give me the damned Dramamine and let’s get this done.”
He pointed to the sandy, tree-lined shoreline in the distance. “This ain’t out to sea. That’s Egmont Key right there. But whatever.”
He went to the Pathfinder’s stern and lowered one anchor, then climbed onto the bow and dropped a second.
When he returned to the two women he was carrying a lidded plastic five-gallon bucket and a third anchor attached to a long length of chain.
He lightly touched Letty’s arm. “Vikki’s right. Let’s get this over with. Ready?”
She swallowed hard and rose unsteadily to her feet. “Yeah. Just tell me what to do.”
“Come on up to the bow with me. I’ll get you posed, and then Hill, once you’re done tossing your cookies, you can play photographer.”
Joehefted the lidded bucket onto the bow, alongside the third anchor, which was attached to a long length of chain.
He offered Letty a Dramamine. “You might want this. Even though I’ve got us on the backside of Egmont, facing into the wind, I can’t completely stabilize the boat.”
She shook her head.
“Okay, then. I need you to stretch out here with your feet together. I’m gonna wrap this chain around your ankles, then your middle, then your shoulders. It’s kinda damp and rusty, but there’s nothing I can do about that.”
The sun had slid even lower in the deepening purple sky and the wind picked up again, making whitecaps on the water’s surface. Letty crawled onto the bow and assumed the position. Joe worked quickly, winding the chain around her body. She felt the dread and nausea rise in her throat as he worked his way toward her torso, and she arched her back to let him slip the wet metal links beneath her body.
“Almost done,” he said. She turned her head and saw that he was kneeling beside her. “Try and breathe out of your mouth. It’s fixing to get ugly now.” He lifted the lid of the bucket and she gasped as the fetid smell of dead fish assaulted her nostrils.
“I’m sorry, but this was the best I could do on such short notice,” Joe said, as he dipped a rag into the bucket and brought it out, dripping with deep red blood. “Probably best if you close your eyes so you don’t see what happens next. And keep breathing through your nose.”
She did as he suggested, and flinched as she felt him dabbing her forehead, cheeks, and neck with the bloody rag. She heard the soundof liquid pouring from the bucket and gagged out loud as she felt the wet fish blood seeping into her hair and the collar of her shirt.
He patted her shoulder again. “Almost done, Letty.” Her eyelids fluttered open and she saw the flare of a match lighting and saw him touch it to the tip of a cigar. “What are you doing?”
When the cigar had burned down half an inch, he pinched the flame with his forefingers, then, holding the cigar in his left hand, he tipped his right pinky finger into the ash, then delicately tapped it onto her forehead and right shoulder.
“Bullet holes,” he said.
“Not too shabby,” Vikki said, leaning over to inspect. “But to be completely convincing, we could use some brain tissue.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell Wingfield I did the deed in a dark alley, then moved the body to the boat. Like any self-respecting hit man would.”
“Could you two quit admiring your handiwork and take the damned picture before I pass out from the smell?” Letty said, gritting her teeth.
