Page 21 of Beachcomber Enemy

With the key hidden under the drainpipe, Dane and Joe snuck in the back door of the Lucky Parrot and headed straight to the basement. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to get away with staying there before Tom Jones, the owner, would notice he had intruders and maybe call the cops on them. Or worse, shoot them on sight.

It had rained lightly as they’d trotted from where he’d parked the Jeep, so now he was wet, tired, and hungry on top of worried past his ability to feel guilt.

Joe took out his spyware gadgets from a beat-up army-issue canvas sack that looked like it had survived since World War II.

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“The bag or the equipment?”

Dane gave him a what-do-you-think look.

“The bag was my grandfather’s from the Korean war. A good luck charm.” He flashed a rare smile. “The goodies inside are standard issue tech from my never-to-be-named sources.”

Dane picked up a pair of night-vision goggles that were far lighter and more streamlined than he’d seen before. He made a mental note to update his own inventory of gadgets.

Then it hit him. He had no inventory. Everything was gone. Inhaling a tight breath, he shrugged it off. He still had Shana. As long as she lived and breathed the world would be all right.

“We have several lithium-operated remote surveillance cameras with Wi-Fi capability. The weapons I assume you’re familiar with. And there’s a laser pointer.” Joe laid it all out on the rough-hewn table precisely as if he were preparing a museum display.

“You suppose we can get food service down here?” Joe continued. “Bar food isn’t my normal thing, but even the stale food from this place is starting to smell good.”

“We’re below the radar here. I’ll have Ronnie pick something up,” Dane said. He started to say that it would be just like old times, but Shana wasn’t here to get it, to understand and remember how they’d always had Ronnie pick up food when he’d worked at the Shark’s Table restaurant. Dane made the call anyway and Ronnie laughed, not like he used to, not like he would have if he wasn’t worried about Sassy.

While they waited, Dane tried not to think about Shana waking up and finding him gone. He set up the laptop, stealing the Wi-Fi from The Lucky Parrot. Tom would never notice. The man barely knew how to send e-mails. Dane had some homework to do. He needed intel on Whitey Nash and his prison mates.

While Joe snored in the beat-up lounger, Dane made use of the computer. It didn’t seem like too long when he heard the metallic squeaking, signaling the opening of the bulkhead doors.

Ronnie and Cap arrived at the same time, both wet, both carrying cargo.

“Kid. Sight for sore old eyes,” Dane said. Ronnie went straight for him, hand outstretched for a shake, but Dane pulled him in and gave him a double thump on the back.

“Good to see you alive and well, man.” Ronnie backed up and Dane noticed the haunted look in the kid’s eyes.

“We’ll get her. We have a plan.” Bold statement since he was just spinning up something in his head now. Joe gave him his signature eyebrow raise.

Cap said, “Of course you do. I don’t suppose I play a role in this plan?”

“Nope.”

Cap smiled and gave Dane a one-armed hug. “Glad to see you in one piece. And don’t tell Shana I said this, but I’m glad she’s not here. The bomb that exploded your shack was technically sophisticated, so I’m told by our tech guys. Which means that whoever Whitey Nash is, he’s learned some skills since Shana last saw him.”

“Or he has a partner,” Dane said.

The other three men looked at him, nodding as the notion took root.

“What’s your plan?” Cap asked. He was the skeptic, not that it mattered. They would find out soon enough if Dane was right about Whitey having a partner.

“First let’s hear from Ronnie.”

Ronnie took the food out of the bags. The kid was smart. None of it required utensils to eat. The ingredients to make sandwiches, water and cookies. When he finished, he faced Dane, looking more serious than he could ever remember seeing him. But not afraid.

“I heard about the explosion in Vineyard Haven on Instagram,” he said. “First chance I had I called your house. No line. Then I checked the news and found out why. I was on my way to my sergeant’s office to ask for leave when I got the call from Sassy. We both thought you were dead. We were both afraid she was next. Then she heard someone and her front door flew open. She ran for the basement. The call cut out and I’m sure they caught up with her.”

“What time was that?” Dane asked. He needed to put the pieces together to get as clear a picture as possible. Any edge they could get could be crucial.

Ronnie shrugged. “Just before sunset, I think.”

Dane nodded.