Just Add Trouble (Hetta Coffey Mystery Series (Book 3)) (31 page)

“Nacho don’t got one, and we’re sticking to it.”

Chapter 40

What we needed was a plan not to stick to.

I peeked in on old Aunt Lil, who was, unfortunately, still breathing. Mr. Bill sat on her chest, purring in unison with her snores. The iguana was stretched out on the end of the bed, unharmed, and asleep. That cat obviously has no taste when it comes to people, but then he did belong to Herbert. Any hopes I’d had for feline lizard control were dashed.

I rejoined the men and looked behind us as, even from almost mid-sea, first light silhouetted the tips of the Tetakawi mountains against the eastern sky. We were over forty miles out, but the lack of air pollution in this part of the world makes for spectacular visibility.

As the sun rose, Nacho, Smith, and I pored over a charts of the middle sea. Nacho tapped Agua Fria, then asked, “Is there another place, near by, but not visible from Agua Fria, where we can rendezvous with the other boats?”

“Here,” Smith pointed. “If this weather holds, and it is supposed to, this little anchorage is good. Only two miles or so north of Agua Fria.”

“What’s it called?”

“The cruisers call it Vagabond Cove, after a boat that sank there.”

“Okay, so we want the cruisers to rendezvous at Vagabond Cove by tomorrow afternoon, right?”

Nacho nodded. “Yes. When will we arrive there?”

I punched a few buttons on the GPS, brought up the menu of preloaded waypoints and cursored down to Vagabond. “At this speed, late afternoon. I can put on a few more turns, get there earlier.”

“Perfect. That will give us almost twenty-four hours for the other boats to arrive, for you to organize your parade, and for me to, uh, do what I have to do.”

Nacho and I went topsides, leaving Smith to catch a nap on the settee. The morning air was chilly, but windless, and the Sea of Cortez was as glassy as I’d ever seen it. Nary a ripple or swell disturbed the surface. To the northwest I could make out the outline of the Three Virgins, the volcanoes near Santa Rosalia. We were joined by a huge school of dolphins, probably a hundred or more, that chattered, jumped and entertained us for a good twenty minutes before getting bored with our relatively slow speed. The veered off and went about the business of feeding on fish.

The dolphins gone, I turned to Nacho to share my thoughts. “Let me summarize this brilliant plan of yours. We all get in parade formation, with me out front standing in for Rudolph. We turn on our Christmas lights, blast Elvis singing “Blue Christmas” on the loud hailer, and cruise right into a drug lord-controlled harbor. With a fleet about as militarily effective as the Swiss Navy. What’s to keep said bad guys from blowing Dancer, Donner, Blitzen, and
Raymond
plumb out of the water?”

“Me, of course. I—”

“Hetta! Help! I need you down here,” Smith hollered.

Nacho and I ran down the stairs, expecting to find the boat filling with water or smoke, but it was worse.

Auntie Lil was awake.

Wrapped in a bed sheet that she was having trouble holding onto, she was bent over, her head in the fridge and her withered hindquarters bare.

“Aunt Lil, for heaven’s sake, go get dressed. There are men here.”

Without changing position, she asked, “Where’s your tomato juice?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Oh, well, then. Just get me the vodka. Cut out the middle man, so to speak.” She straightened and turned to face us. The sheet, thank all the stars in heaven, did its job. Her steely gray hair stuck out in all directions. Black mascara smudges bruised her cheeks and she had, apparently without benefit of a mirror, smeared bright red lipstick across her lips. Alice Cooper would no doubt applaud her maquillage.

Incongruously, a Queen Elizabeth-style handbag hung from her way-too-bare arm. Her jaw worked and she smacked her lips in a way I knew all too well, an involuntary movement, the result of popping pills. That handbag held an addict’s dream list of pharmaceuticals, most of them prescriptions from a plethora of doctors she played like the lottery, and undoubtedly enhanced by an all-inclusive trip for two to a Mexican
farmacia
. I would have dumped the bag’s contents overboard while she slept, but I had no way of knowing which pills were recreational, and which were actually necessary to keep her alive. It’s against my nature to waste a perfectly good recreational drug.

“No vodka,” I stated, drawing an amused look from Nacho.

“What kind of ship is this?” my aunt wanted to know.

“A dry one. No booze on board. I’m trying to quit,” I lied. During the night I had cleared every single bit of booze from the main saloon into the far reaches of the engine room.

“Well, then, I insist that you take me to shore.”

“My pleasure, believe me. In a few hours you’ll have all the shore you can stand.”
In the middle of nowhere Baja
.

As if her vision suddenly slammed into focus, she noticed Smith and Nacho. Putting on what she thought was a coquettish smile, she batted her eyelashes. “My goodness, Hetta, I sure like the looks of your crew. But you really must remove your cat from my room.”

“It’s not your room, and it’s not my cat. Now, please, go get dressed.”

“I can’t find my clothes. I must have left them in the taxi. I had a most dreadful row with the driver over Iggy, who escaped his duffel bag when I wasn’t looking, and climbed into the man’s lap. Gave him quite a start. The taxi man, not my iguana. Man almost wrecked us. Such a careless driver.”

“You were naked in the taxi?”

“Of course not. That taxi driver dumped us in the parking lot and took off with my suitcase.”

“Then put on the clothes you arrived in.”

“They’re soiled. I have no idea how.”

Oh, I do
. “Then I’ll give you some sweats. Come on.”

I led her into my stateroom where Mr. Bill and Ignacio, Iggy, were curled up together, still napping. I felt a familiar tickle in the back of my throat and headed for my medicine chest, and the antihistamines. Unless I dumped Mr. Bill soon, I would be flirting with a full blown asthma attack. As much as I liked cats, an extreme allergy to them was the only thing I had in common with my aunt. To make sure my dear aunt didn’t take all my medicine when hers ran out, I stuffed my inhaler and meds into my jacket pocket. When this little caper was over, I would have to de-cat my quarters.

I threw a pair of sweats at Lil. As my mood darkened, my already stretched tolerance for my least favorite relative thinned. “Here, put these on, and stay out of the way.”

“Your mother would be appalled, you talking to me that way. You have no respect for your elders.”

“Respect is earned.”

“You’ve always hated me, and now you’ve stolen my sweet little bird and sold him off.”

“Trouble!” I yelled. He sailed into the room, but took one look at the now awake iguana and cat, and sailed back out. “See, he’s here, and he’s all yours. I’ve waited years to give you the bird.”

Okay, lame and immature, but it made me feel better.

Back on the flying bridge with Nacho, I sulked. What I wanted was a drink, but could I have one? No. And why? Because I had to keep booze from a woman I hated. I wanted Jenks, but where was he? In Kuwait, while I sailed into disaster. And why? Because that’s what I do.

Nacho wisely kept silent while I steamed. The antihistamine hit my bloodstream, and empty stomach, taking the edge off my anger and making me a little high. Runs in the family, I guess.

“Nacho?”

“Yes?”

“What are you going to do when we get to the other side?”

“I told you.”

“No, you gave us a vague indication. I want details.”

“No you don’t.”

“Then give me one good reason to put myself, and others into danger.”

“Okay, I will. When this is over, you’ll be glad you did. For the rest of your life, you will know that you unselfishly put yourself into danger to save others.”

“That is the worst reason I’ve ever heard. I am selfish, and I want to stay that way.”

“Then do it for me.” He said this softly, not looking at me, but at the horizon. “Help me save you. I don’t want you on my conscience.”

“Like you have one.”

He didn’t answer.

Something in his manner set me to ruminating on the past three dizzying days. Seemed that one minute I was worrying about getting Jan across the border, and the next I was running through it. I’d committed several punishable crimes. I was consorting with a known drug dealer, pursued by another, I’d…a little light went off in my head. “Nacho, you rat bastard. You sicced Paco on me, didn’t you?”

“I’m afraid so. At the time, I didn’t think it would come to this, but it has.”

“You owe me the story.”

He sighed. “After you took my truck, Paco realized his GPS with all the border crossing waypoints was missing. I told him it was in my truck.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No. I had hidden it until I could get the information into the hands of the right people.”

“Which you did.”

“Yes. All the drugs will be stopped, and the carriers arrested.”

“Why did you need me?”

“Paco traced the truck to Lopez Mateos, then learned you had left in it. These small towns, people talk. By the time he arrived in Santa Rosalia, you were gone. He returned to Lopez Mateos and began stalking Jan, hoping she would lead him to you. In a way, she did.”

The idea of that psychopath stalking my best friend turned my blood cold.

“While Paco was in Lopez Mateos, I decided to make a run for it. Take the GPS and hightail it for the border. I was in Santa Rosalia to catch the ferry when I spotted Jan at a pay phone. I maneuvered close enough to hear she was talking with you. When she headed for the marina, I followed. I was sure Paco was nearby, and I couldn’t just leave her unprotected.”

“How gallant of you.”

He ignored my barb. “You know the rest. We were lucky to escape Santa Rosalia. Paco must have nosed around and learned where we went, and by then he knew I was…well, not one of them.”

“But he couldn’t blow the whistle on you without getting himself in deep
caca
.”

“
Correcto
. Now I will finish off the villain, save the villagers and, more importantly, my Margo Lane.”

“Oh, gosh, Lamont, I’m sooo relieved.”

“You know, Margo, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”

“I tailor my wit to suit my audience.”

Chapter 41

Super hero on board or no, I had no intention of staging a one-boat parade, just in case The Shadow got his cape shot full of holes.

Smith, unlike
moi
, was a legally licensed ham operator. He tuned in the Sonrisa Net and pleaded for other boats to join us at Vagabond for a parade into Agua Fria.

“Think they’ll come?” Nacho wanted to know.

“Some will, for sure,” Smith reassured him. “Even if we only have five boats with lights, we’ll make a splash. Hetta, do you really have Elvis’s Christmas music? I’m impressed.”

I nodded, and said, “Let’s hope we don’t impress a bunch of bad guys into blowing us out of the water.”

Nacho grinned. “It will not be that way. By the time you enter the harbor, I will have neutralized any serious firepower they have.”

“How about the unserious firepower? And how do you plan to disarm them?”

“I will walk from Vagabond Cove to,” he tapped the chart, “here. I stashed a few heavy duty weapons near this spot. If all goes well, and I’m sure it will, I will at least have the few men at the lab under control. It is the guards in the village that you need to distract, and there are probably only about three or four. They will be as astonished as the villagers when your parade arrives.”

“I’ll go with you, Nacho,” Smith offered.

“No, I need you for another operation. While everyone is watching the parade, a volunteer, namely you, will go ashore and bring as many willing villagers as you can out to the boats. Tell them it’s a party.”

“And what, pray tell, will keep the guards from grabbing Smith?”

“Their job is to intimidate the locals, not engage outsiders.”

“How do we know the villagers will be willing to come to our so-called party?”

“You will offer them gifts for their children.”

“I do have a few things onboard that Jenks suggested I bring. Crayons, pencils, writing tablets. We trade them for fish and lobster.”

“
Perfecto
.”