Fangtooth (9 page)

Chapter 18

The sky looked overcast, but the sea was
calm as Zander piloted his vessel out of the harbour. McKenzie had paid him
promptly for yesterday’s drug delivery, but then he had telephoned in the
middle of the night to tell Zander there was another pickup. Zander had been
half asleep and slightly hung over at the time after spending some of his pay
in the Sheet and Anchor, but even he knew things were getting out of hand. But
he was in too deep to pull out now, besides which, he didn’t think McKenzie
would just let him walk away. Zander wasn’t weak, but he wasn’t stupid. Like it
or not, he was in for the duration.

He made a quick call to Brad and met him
at the boat before setting sail. He didn’t like involving the engineer, but the
boat was too big to pilot by himself, and the engines were temperamental at the
best of times, and only Brad seemed able to soothe the savage beast.

The rhythmic slap of the boat as it
ploughed through the waves was a relaxing sound. A smudge of light illuminated
the clouds where the sun peeked over the horizon.

Zander felt as though saltwater flowed
through his veins. Almost mystical at times, the sea had an allure unlike any
other.

In the distance, Zander spotted the red
buoy that marked the lobster pot and he eased back on the throttle. Just then,
something banged against the hull. Unable to see anything from the wheelhouse,
Zander cut the engine, stepped out onto the deck, and peered over the side. He
couldn’t spot anything in the murky water, but the sea was good at hiding its
secrets. Assuming it was flotsam and jetsam, he proceeded to the starboard side
to haul in the pot

He couldn’t remember the last time they
had brought home a decent haul. He had been through rough patches before, but
never one that lasted this long–if it was a shark scaring the fish away, then
he needed to track the bastard down, but so far after a thorough search, he
hadn’t spotted anything that lead him to believe one had taken up residence on
their doorstep.

But if things didn’t improve soon, he
was going to have no choice but to lay his men off. Word had gotten back to him
that people were already starting to talk, asking how he could make a living
and pay his workers when they never caught anything. He could live off the drug
money himself, and he could pay his men with it, but he couldn’t risk further
suspicion.

He grabbed the pole and hooked the line
to the pot, instantly aware something was wrong as the rope came up too easily.
A deep frown marred his brow as he eventually pulled the last of the rope
aboard to find what remained of the lobster pot. Someone had smashed it to
pieces. It took him a couple of seconds to remember the drugs. How could he
explain to McKenzie that someone had stolen the drugs?

Back at the harbour, Brad jumped down
onto the quay to moor the boat up. When the boat was secure, Zander cut the
engine, stepped out on deck, waved and watched Brad saunter home.

“Hey Zander.”

Zander turned and looked at the figure
leaning against the harbour wall.

“Rocky. You can tell your mum she’s out
of luck. I haven’t caught anything.” That kid always made him a little nervous.
There was something about him that wasn’t right. If he hadn’t been fucking the
kid’s mum, he wouldn’t speak to him. Jean wasn’t too hot in the looks
department, but she certainly made up for it in bed, which is why he usually kept
her sweet with the odd fish. Since her husband had left her over eight years
ago, Jean had turned to alcohol and a need to feel loved. Not that Zander loved
her. As far as he was concerned, it was purely physical.

“I’m not here for fish,” Rocky said.

“Okay, so what are you here for?” He
turned and started walking away before Rocky could answer. He had too many
things on his mind to listen to whatever the kid wanted, and he only asked out
of a grudging politeness.

“You wouldn’t happen to be missing some
drugs, would you?”

Zander stopped dead in his tracks. He
clenched his jaw and spun around, grabbing Rocky by the scruff of his neck.
“Something you want to tell me?”

Rocky’s eyes went
wide and he stood up straight and gestured towards the boat. “That new kid in
the village. He was bragging yesterday how he’d stolen some.”

New kid?
Zander
released his hold and scratched his chin, feeling the
coarse brush of
stubble.

Rocky rubbed his throat. “You know,
moved into the old Johnson place with his old man.”

Alarm bells went off in Zander’s head.
He remembered showing the kid’s dad up the other day. He didn’t know how, but
they were probably in on it together. The bastards would end up getting him
killed. “Come here kid, you and me have got a job to do.”

Chapter 19

“So what are you up to today?” Bruce
asked.

Jack shrugged. “You know.” He continued
to wolf down his breakfast of Cornflakes.

“Actually I don’t, that’s why I’m
asking.”

“What’s with the Spanish Inquisition?”
He wondered if his old man was being so curious because he knew that he had
snuck out last night, but then instantly rejected the idea. If his dad knew
about last night, he wouldn’t be so calm.

“Can’t I take an interest in what my
son’s up to?”

“You tell me what there is to do in this
dump, and I’ll let you know.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Well if you’re
short of something to do, you can help me decorate.”

“I’m bored, not desperate.”

“Well it wouldn’t hurt you to help
anyway.”

“Seriously, dad, I’ll find something to
keep me occupied.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Jack and Bruce stared at each other for
a moment. Jack didn’t know if there was a hidden subtext to his dad’s comment
or whether he was just trying to be funny. After a moment, Jack looked away and
continued eating.

Despite what he had just said, Jack knew
exactly where he was going today. To see Jen. He couldn’t get her out of his
head. After yesterday, he knew there was at least a glimmer of a chance that
she and Rocky wouldn’t be together for much longer. If she was going to need a
shoulder to cry on, his was ready, willing
,
and
able.

When he had finished eating, Jack stood
and headed towards the door. “I’m going out,” he said as he picked up his
baseball cap.

“Keep out of trouble. And Jack, don’t go
anywhere near the sea. Okay?”

“Yeah, whatever. See you later.”

Once outside, Jack hurried towards the
harbour. The overcast sky looked leaden this morning. Out to sea, he noticed a
bank of fog rolling in.

When he was out of sight of the house,
Jack lit a cigarette. As he slid the lighter back into his pocket, he became
aware of the sensation of being watched. He gazed around surreptitiously, but
couldn’t see anyone.

In the village, Jack noticed the cafe
was open, so he headed across. Although he had only just eaten breakfast, he
was hungry. The ruddy faced girl stood behind the counter, wiping the surfaces
down. She smiled at Jack as he entered.

“Glad to see you’re still around,” she
said.

Jack wondered whether there was more to
her words than she was letting on. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

The girl grinned. “So what can I get
you?”

“Can I have a can of Coke and one of
those chocolate éclairs?”

“Looks like we’re in for a bad one,” she
said as she walked across to the fridge to get the can of Coke.

Jack looked out of the window and saw that
the fog bank had crept closer, nearly obscuring the harbour and Zander’s boat,
making it look almost ethereal in the gloom.

When he had paid, Jack walked back
outside. The morning chill had now turned into a refrigerator cold and he
shivered and tugged his baseball cap down. The fog seemed to blur reality and
muffle sound. He could just hear the soft creak of the boat in the harbour, the
clink of metal from the many masts and the peal of a bell, made ominous in the
murk.

The fog lapped at his feet, then drifted
over him in a cold embrace. Jack breathed deeply, and the air chilled his
nostrils and iced his lungs. He coughed.

With visibility down to less than twenty
feet, Jack felt slightly wary. If someone was following him, he wouldn’t see
them now. Dressed in only a thin sweater and jeans, he wasn’t prepared for the
sudden change in weather, and he couldn’t believe how quickly the fog had
drifted in.

His original plan had been to call on
Jen, and despite the fog and the cold, he saw no reason to change it now.

The mist made the streets seem surreal;
caused him to lose his bearings after only a few feet. He’d have thought he
couldn’t get lost in such a small village, but the thick fog soon changed his
opinion. He popped open the ring pull on the can of Coke and took a swallow.

He thought he heard footsteps but he
couldn’t be sure so he stopped to listen. He couldn’t be sure of anything in
the fog. His pulse increased and when he shivered this time, it wasn’t due to
the cold. Whatever it was, he couldn’t hear it now and so he continued, his
ears attuned for the slightest noise.

Being in the fog was like being wrapped
in cold cotton wool. Visibility was now around ten feet, and Jack followed a
low wall at the side of the road.

Then he heard the noise again, louder
and closer than before, and he spun around, eyes wide and ears alert.

“Hello, is anyone there?” he whispered.
No one replied.

Sudden movement caught his eye. “Who’s
there?”

The figure didn’t answer and was soon
lost in the fog. Jack’s heart did a little drum roll and he breathed deep to
draw much needed air into his lungs. His fingers tingled slightly, and his
cheeks prickled with anxiety. He didn’t know what he was afraid of, but he used
his training to try to regulate his pulse, concentrating on each breath he
took.

He considered using his phone to call
his dad, but then thought how stupid he would sound, asking him to come and
find him because he was scared of a little bit of mist. If he could just reach
Jen’s house, then everything would be fine.

He started walking again when he heard
the sound of scuffling feet directly behind him. In his panic, Jack dropped his
cake and can of Coke. The can hit the ground and pop fizzed into the air. He
didn’t see the raised arm with something clamped in the hand before it was too
late.

Chapter 20

Bruce had known asking Jack to help him
would have the desired effect and drive him away. He felt a little guilty, but
now he could visit Erin again without having his motives questioned. He knew
Jack wouldn’t be happy about him having feelings for another woman, but until
he knew those feelings were reciprocated by Erin, he wasn’t going to mention
anything.

As he drove out of the village, he saw a
bank of fog rolling in off the sea. From his higher vantage point, there was a
dreamlike beauty to the scene.

The ruckus in the bar had disturbed him
more than he let on to Jack, and although he knew his son could take care of
himself, he was slightly apprehensive about leaving him on his own. The
villagers’ despair and anger was only to be expected under the circumstances,
but it wasn’t right for them to pick on Jack and himself.

When he arrived at the hospital, he
parked and headed towards the entrance only to see Erin walking through the
door with a bag slung over her shoulder. Although he had been nervous the first
time he visited, now he felt more at ease, the ice already broken by his
previous visit.

“Erin. I was just coming to see you,” he
said, smiling.

Erin looked puzzled.

“I was just coming to see how you are,
but I see you’re well enough to leave.”

“The doctors gave me the all clear. They
kept me in for tests, that’s all.”

“That’s great.”

Erin looked at him for a moment, and
Bruce fell into silence. He didn’t know what to say now.

Eventually, Erin spoke, “Well thanks for
the interest in my well-being, but I’ve got to go and call a taxi.”

“Right, right, of course,” Bruce said as
he stepped aside to let her pass. Then as an afterthought, he said, “You don’t
have to phone for a taxi you know. I mean, I’ve got to drive back to the
village, if that’s where you’re going.”

“No, it’s all right; I’ll find my own
way.”

“Honestly, it’s no problem. It just
seems daft you using a taxi when I’ve got the car.”

Erin stared at him apprehensively and
bit her bottom lip.

“I’m quite safe to be around. Honest.”

“I’m sure you are. I just don’t really
know you.”

“Well, here’s your chance.” He gave her
what he hoped was a disarming grin.

A moment later, Erin shrugged. “What the
hell. After what I’ve been through, a ride in a car’s not going to hurt.”

Erin’s comment reminded Bruce of her
previous assertion that there was something other than a shark in the water,
but he wasn’t going to badger her for more information now.

“Here, let me carry your bag,” he said.

“I can manage,” she said sharply. Then
she smiled. “But thanks for offering.”

Bruce led the way to his car, making
idle chitchat on the way.

He drove out of the car park and onto
the main road. Erin stared out of the passenger window, her arms folded across
her chest in a protective manner.

“I heard your diving partner is
missing.”

When she looked across at him, her
expression was grim. “He’s not missing. He’s dead.”

“Dead? How?”

“Something attacked him.”

He recalled the man on holiday that had
supposedly been attacked in the sea. “So what do you think it was?”

She bit her lip, thought for a moment.
“I don’t know. There was something familiar about it, something that I
recognised … but I’m not sure.”

“Give it time, and it’ll come to you.
The brain’s funny like that. Leave it to its own devices, and eventually the
subconscious will work it out.”

“Perhaps I’m better off not knowing,”
she said quietly.

To change the subject, Bruce said, “So
where are you staying?”

“I live and sleep on board the research
boat, so I’ll have to contact them and have them come pick me up.”

“Well, you could come and wait at my
house if you want, you know.” He would just have to take whatever his son threw
at him.

Erin frowned. “I don’t understand why
you’re taking such an interest in my welfare.”

Bruce coughed to clear his throat. “If
I’m being honest, it’s because I like you.” He kept his eyes fixed on the road
ahead, too afraid to look at her in case she was laughing. He noticed the
wedding band on his finger. It felt as though it constricted slightly on his
finger.

After a moment, Erin said, “Oh.”

Bruce didn’t know what he thought his
disclosure would produce, but ‘oh’ most certainly wasn’t high up there on the
list. Thinking he had embarrassed her, and that she wasn’t interested, he could
feel his cheeks glowing red. He had ruined his chances before even getting to
know her.

“I’ll only come to your house on one
condition: that you tell me why you call your dog Shazam.”

Bruce turned to look at Erin, delighted
to see she was smiling. It was almost unbelievable she had remembered his dog’s
name. “Yes, right, of course,” he said, unable to keep the grin from his face.
“As a kid, I always read Captain Marvel comics, couldn’t get enough of them.
When I bought Shazam as a puppy, I couldn’t really call her Captain Marvel, especially
as she was a bitch, and my wife … I told you about my wife, didn’t I?”

Erin nodded.

“Well, she said Captain Marvel would be
a stupid name for a dog, so I called her by the name of the wizard who granted
Billy Batson the ability to transform into Captain Marvel, Shazam.”

“That’s quite sweet in a way, naming a
dog after something you remembered from your childhood.”

“Some people might say sad.”

“That all depends on who you tell the
story to.”

Bruce smiled. It was the first time
since his wife had died that the expression felt genuine.

When they arrived back at the village,
the fog was thicker than ever. Dense clouds of mist rolled across the road, and
Bruce cruised along at a walking pace to avoid crashing. It took almost fifteen
minutes before he reached the house, whereupon he exited the vehicle and stood
in the fog for a moment, shivering as the mist embraced him. Just as he made
his way around the vehicle to be gallant and open Erin’s door, she stepped out.

“You always leave your door hanging like
that?” Erin asked.

Bruce frowned, then looked to see the
front door hanging off its hinges. “Oh my god,” he said as he ran into the
house. “Jack, Jack, are you in there?”

The place was a mess. Cupboards were
open and drawers were pulled out, their contents tipped on the ground. The
settee had been torn open like a gutted animal. A sudden bark from the dining
room alerted him to Shazam, and he tore across the room to find the door
barricaded with a chair beneath the handle. Bruce yanked the chair away and flung
the door open. Shazam bounded out, barking loudly.

“Where’s Jack?” he asked the dog. At the
mention of Jack’s name, Shazam barked even louder. Bruce wished he could
interpret the sound. He took his phone from his pocket and called Jack’s
number. The phone rang a number of times, then voicemail cut in asking him if
he wanted to leave a message.

“Jack, it’s me. If you get this message,
call me straight away.” Sensing someone behind him, Bruce spun around to find
Erin standing in the doorway, looking around the room in shock.

“Good god, what’s happened?”

Bruce shook his head and put his phone
back in his pocket. “I think we’ve been ransacked.”

“You mean burgled?” she said.

“I only hope that’s all it is,” Bruce
replied.

Erin frowned. “Is there something you’re
not telling me?”

“My son and I, we had a little run in
with the locals. They were blaming us for the shortage of fish.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Try telling them that.”

“And you think this could be something
to do with it?”

“I’m not a gambling man, but I’d put
money on it.”

“Even more reason to call the police
then.”

“I know. It’s just … it’s Jack.”

“Jack? What’s he got to do with this?”

“Nothing. At least that’s what I’m
hoping. I just need to find him first.”

Erin scratched her
chin. “You think he’s missing?”

 “I don’t know but
I’d better go look for him.”

“Well what are we waiting for, let’s
go.”

Bruce followed her out of the room with
Shazam at his heel. If anything had happened to Jack, he wouldn’t be able to
live with himself.