“It’s not a long way if you know where you’re going.” Jack had arrived at the shed. “I knew I’d left some prints in the swamp, so I sent you that way and then ran home to get my stuff. I figured I’d track you down and mess with you a little. I flung a few rocks at you and then took the long way home. You were following my trail which is why it took you so long.”
“We did take a lunch break while you made the casting of the footprint,” Bones said to Slater.
“But still… ” Slater began.
Bones shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve solved the mystery. I’m sorry it’s not what you hoped it would be but at least you have your answer.”
“I’ll give you all a ride back to your car,” Logan said.
“That won’t be necessary.” Slater bit off each word. “We can find our way back.”
“Please. I’ve done you wrong. At least let me do this one little thing for you.” He grinned at Bones. “I also won’t make an issue of the incident that happened at the river.” He waited for Bones to fill the silence, but Bones knew that trick and held his tongue. “Two boys said a great big Indian jumped them and stole their truck keys. Had to pay a locksmith to cut a new set.”
“It serves them right,” Carly said.
Logan laughed. “I’m sure it does. Them two are no good. I’ve been dealing with them for years. Now, how about that ride?”
Chapter 12
The alarm on his phone vibrated. Bones rolled out of bed and shut it off. Midnight. Time to move.
While the Keurig in his hotel room brewed a cup of strong coffee, he bathed his face in cold water and then trickled a little down the back of his neck for good measure. He’d reluctantly declined Slater’s invitation to dinner in favor of an early bedtime, knowing he’d be up in the middle of the night. When his coffee was ready, he grabbed it along with his keys, strapped on his Recon knife, pocketed his MagLite, and headed out the door.
The soupy Florida air enveloped him in its damp arms the moment he stepped out the door. No matter how long he lived, he doubted he’d ever grow accustomed to the humidity. He spared one longing thought for the lumpy mattress and blasting air conditioning in his room, and then closed the door behind him.
“I knew you didn’t buy his story,” said a soft voice.
Bones grinned. “I wondered why you gave up so easily.” He turned to see Slater sitting on the floor, back against the door of her room. Smiling, she cracked open a can of energy drink.
“I didn’t want to pound this baby until I was sure you were coming out.”
“Drink it slow. Those things will mess you up.” Bones winced at the sound of his words. Caution was Maddock’s thing, not his.
“Understood. Help me up?” She reached out a hand and Bones hauled her to her feet. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Here, I’ll show you.” He took out his phone and called up the map he’d studied earlier. “Logan’ house is here, near the bend in the Myakka River. This area here is pure swamp — it’s a no-man’s land all the way to the spot where I estimate the sunken galleon sits, and well beyond. I think it’s worth checking out. We’ll park down the road from Logan’ house and try and find the trail.”
Forty minutes later, Bones pulled his truck off to the side of the rutted dirt road that led to Logan’ home. He pulled it into the woods out of sight of the main road and cut the engine.
“Do you want to wait here while I see if I can pick up the trail?” he asked Slater.
“Not a chance. You’ll go on without me and I’ll be left sitting here looking like an idiot.” She reached into her backpack and took out a small handheld video recorder.
“No cameras,” Bones said.
“What are you talking about?”
“This isn’t for the show. This is about satisfying my own curiosity.” He saw the hard look in her eyes. “If you bring a camera, I’ll just slip off into the woods and leave you wandering til morning.”
Slater looked like she might take that as a challenge, but then her shoulders sagged and she returned the camera to its bag. “You’re an ass, you know that?”
“I know. My sister reminds me every chance she gets.”
Slater cocked her head. “You have a sister? What’s she like?”
“Pretty like you; abrasive personality like me.” While Slater chewed on that, he reached into the glove box and took out his Glock. He checked the magazine and then slipped the holster onto his belt.
“You’re not thinking about shooting Logan, are you?”
“I’m not thinking of shooting anybody. I just want to have the option in case we’re forced to defend ourselves. Come on. We’re wasting time.”
Using only the moonlight to illuminate his path, he led the way into the woods. A few minutes later, the mobile home loomed in the distance. A single light glowed from somewhere inside, but otherwise all was dark and quiet.
“Do you need my flashlight?” Slater whispered.
“I’ve got it covered.” He took out his MagLite, into which he’d slipped a red lens, and turned it on. “White light would draw too much attention and would screw up my night vision. This way we’re unlikely to be spotted.”
“You’re smarter than you look.”
“And you’re not,” he replied with a wink.
“Point for your side.”
Bones carefully searched the area behind the outbuilding where Logan had shown them the false feet earlier that day. Finally, he came across a partial print, and then another.
“We’ve got a trail,” he whispered.
“That took a long time. Think we’ll be back in time for breakfast?”
“I always tell a lady to plan on being out all night. This time is no different.” He winked, though he was sure she couldn’t see it in the dark. “If we’re lucky, the tracks follow that trail up ahead.” He pointed to a game trail that wound off into the forest.
They hurried along, and Bones was encouraged to find enough tracks and sign to keep them moving at a steady clip. Whatever had passed this way, it had been in a hurry. Here and there he picked up shoe prints the size of a youth or a small man. Jack had been this way.
The path curved around to the southeast, bending back toward the swamp. The air grew dank and the ground sloppy.
“Do you think we’re headed back toward the old ship?” Slater asked.
Bones shook his head. “Wrong direction. I think… ” He froze. A powerful stench wafted through the night air. “Get down.” He put his hand on Slater’s shoulder and forced her down into a crouch.
“Do you see something?”
“Not yet. I caught a whiff of something so I’m playing it safe. I don’t want any big rocks flying at our heads.” He waited, looking and listening, but nothing seemed to be about. “I guess we follow our noses.” He turned out his MagLite, drew his Glock, and began to move forward.
“Don’t use your gun on them,” Slater pleaded.
“Not unless it’s in defense of our lives. I generally don’t relish killing. There have been a few people I didn’t mind taking out, but they all deserved it.”
“If you say so.”
The trail soon disappeared, giving way to soggy earth that squelched with each step, threatening to suck the boots off of their feet. Slater let out a small gasp of surprise as she suddenly found herself ankle-deep in muck.
“So gross.” She grimaced as she slowly worked her foot out of the mire. “We won’t be able to go much farther, I don’t think.”
“Don’t be so sure. There are stepping stones up ahead.” The faint slivers of moonlight cast a thin, silver glow on a line of flat stones in the midst of the swamp.