Page 25 of The Last Grift
Why did he always complicate his own life?
“Gordon’s a good kid,” Elton was saying. “He’s had a hard time of it recently and hasn’t always made the best choices, but he’s good at heart. Come on into the kitchen. I dug out those cleaning supplies I mentioned.”
Gabriel and Gordon had at least one thing in common, then. Sliding his hand into his coat pocket, he found the crumpled “notice of violation.” He wondered what Gordon had ended up in jail for and suspected it was for something petty like, say, unpaid parking tickets.
“There’s my headstone right there,” Gabriel replied, limping slightly as he followed Elton into his kitchen. “Here lies Gabriel Karne, who didn’t always make the right decisions. Alright, Elton, I’ll take your advice and give Gordon a chance.”
He’d count the expense toward not getting another trespassing ticket like last night. Not sleeping in his car for a third night in a row would be a relief. Anything for a bit of privacy so he could think properly. The public boat launch he’d lurked next to until daybreak had been another gamble, but no one had bothered him or banged on the roof of his car telling him he had to move.
This morning, when the dashboard clock had finally ticked over to seven a.m., he’d driven over to the country store for desperately needed coffee. The number of people waiting in line was a bit of a shock—but, he reasoned, it was the only store on Heartstone.
Gabriel lingered inside as long as he could, keeping his stinky self away from other customers. He ended up checking out the old photos again and then browsing through an eclectic collection of rentable movies on DVD and VHS. If he’d had aVCR player, he would have been tempted to borrowOverboard. It seemed like the perfect movie, plus he had a soft spot for Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell.
“I told him he should meet you at the marina.” Elton’s bushy eyebrows rose. “When you’re finished for the day, you can borrow my shower. You’re going to need one.” He didn’t wrinkle his nose, but it was implied.
Gabriel looked down at himself. There was a stain on his jeans where the hand pie had leaked onto them. It would be good to change the bandage on his thigh, too.
“Yeah, definitely need one. Do you really think it’s possible to get the boat cleaned up enough for me to sleep on it tonight?” he asked.
“Yes.” Elton waggled his head. “No. Well, depends, I guess. How much clean do you need?”
Gabriel considered the question. “At this point, all I ask is no spiders, no snakes, and a lock on the door. And no leaks.”
“Well, you’re going to have to invest in a new composting toilet and replace the shower pipes. Also,” Elton added after a second, “a new white-gas stove. If you update the electrical panel or put in solar panels, you might be able to have a microwave, too. But, no matter what you do, there’s gonna be spiders.”
“Damn.” Intellectually, Gabriel recognized the importance of spiders. Emotionally, however, he was fine with their complete extinction.
Except for the eight-legged roommates, he’d probably be able to manage living on a sailboat tied up to a dock.. Possibly, he could motor the thing to the boatyard. Sailing it was a big fat no fucking way, although a few YouTube videos might change that.
He had to believe that the Colavitos wouldn’t trace him to Heartstone Island. And on the off chance they did, notto the sailboat. The ease with which he’d found Elton told him he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. Because, no matter where Gabe went, trouble tagged along. He might as well make the best of it.
Gabriel blinked; he’d zoned out and Elton was holding an orange five-gallon bucket full of plastic gloves, rags, and spray bottles filled with cleaning solutions.
“Might as well get started. There’s a green hose wrapped up by the boatshed for water. I took care of her as best I could but”—Elton grimaced—“getting old happened faster than I thought it would. And think about my offer, dinner and the spare bedroom.”
“I’ll think about it.” Gabriel accepted the bucket, letting it swing down and bump against his leg. “Thanks. My mom would thank you too.”
Elton grinned at his words. “Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t. I never could understand why Heidi kept the damn thing. But she sent me a check for moorage every year, so I ain’t complaining.”
Of all the things his mother had done over her lifetime, why this? Why a sailboat?
For once, Heidi’s spectral voice did not have an answer for him.
With a groan,Gabe slowly straightened up, one hand massaging the small of his back.
His back ached, and his shoulders had a ticket in, too. He’d been working for several hours and was sweaty and slightly nauseous from the cleanser fumes.
Using a pitted butter knife he’d found, Gabe had managed to force open one of the two top-hinged windows, propping it open with an anonymous tin can he’d discovered under one ofthe bench seats. As Elton had predicted, the creepy crawler kill was high. Some of the creatures appeared primordial and Gabriel imagined they’d been living on the boat for eons.
“The family line ends here. You bastards should be paying rent,” Gabriel growled as he went after several of them with a shriveled-up tennis shoe that had been keeping the can company. “I’d be a millionaire.”
Tossing the shoe to the side—he’d burn it after the cleaning and killing were finished—Gabriel straightened his back again as much as he could. At his height, he only had about an inch to spare before his head whacked against beams. He’d already learned the painful way to keep his head and back slightly bent as he moved around.
The interior of the sailboat wasn’t winning any awards; however, there didn’t appear to be any holes where water could get inside. It still smelled vaguely of fuel and bleach, but Gabriel was too tired to care. It looked slightly better than when he’d stepped aboard that morning, which was a win. But now he really needed a shower.
Along with the loan of cleaning supplies and heavy-duty trash bags, Elton had given him a plastic garbage bag packed with spare bedding, a pillow, and a comforter so faded Gabriel couldn’t tell what the colored blobs decorating the fabric were supposed to be.
“You think you want to stay on her tonight. But I figure you’re Heidi’s kid, so there’s a working brain in there somewhere,” Elton had said. “When you’re done for the day, come on back here. I’ll rustle up some chili.”
