Page 46 of The Last Grift
And why was that? Gabriel didn’t want to look a grift horse in the mouth—ha-ha—but could Elton have an ulterior motive? At some point, everybody wanted something, but that didn’t seem to apply to Elton. Gabe pushed that thought away and strode toward the end of the dock.
Lundin’s boat theBarbara—who the fuck wasBarbaraanyway?—was in much better condition thanThe Golden Ticket. Even under the weak morning light and the gray and gloomy clouds, with the sails tucked away and much of the deck covered by what must have been a custom-fitted tarp, the boat managed to gleam. TheTicketsulked like a scrawny teenager who hung out behind the gym and smoked clove cigarettes. At least, some of them had back in Gabe’s time.
“Show-off,” he said to the vessel.
Mimicking what Lundin had done the other day, Gabriel knocked his knuckles against the hull instead of just climbing aboard. There was no immediate reply.
“Ranger Man, you in there?” he called out.
A muffled thump was followed with, “Not for you.”
“Ha, fucking, ha. I want to ask you some questions. Can I come aboard?”
“Somehow, you don’t seem like the kind of person who asks permission.”
Ah, well, Lundin wasn’t wrong about that.
“I’m not, but I promised Elton I’d behave.”
More thumping, the rasp of a lock clicking open, and then, “Come on in, I guess.”
One of the least enthusiastic greetings Gabriel had ever been extended, but considering the source, he wasn’t shocked.
“Don’t put yourself out being friendly. I can’t take it,” Gabe muttered, grabbing a polished railing and swinging onto the deck. “Your dog at least seems to like me.”
It was unusual for someone to take an immediate dislike to him. Sure, there were people who grew to loathe him over time, but he’d had to work at it. Lundin had skipped right to the end.
“Yeah, well, Bowie doesn’t always have the best taste.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Unlike his floating heap, theBarbara’ssteering and navigation area was separate from the main cabin. TheBarbarawas also longer, which probably made it more comfortable. Stepping around some rope and an unlabeled plastic container, Gabriel made his way down into the cabin and stopped short.
Lundin was facing the entrance and had a t-shirt pulled halfway over his head, so Gabriel got a nice eyeful of furry chest and abs before it was pulled all the way down. Noted. Andno. His gaze was properly averted by the time Lundin’s damp head appeared.
“I’m on shift in forty minutes.” Lundin tucked the t-shirt in and pulled on a dark green button-up he grabbed from a two-person table affixed to the bulkhead. “What do you want?” he asked as he started on the buttons.
Elton had assured him he could trust Lundin. But still, Gabriel hesitated.
“I had a long day yesterday,” Lundin said impatiently, “and I’m running behind already today. What do you need?”
“Right.” Gabriel dragged a hand through his hair, conscious of the silver sparks that were becoming more noticeable each passing day. “Elton’s still worried about Gordon MacDonald. I assume you know nobody’s seen him for a couple days now?”
Lundin nodded, confirming Gabriel’s suspicion that he knew just about everyone’s movements on the island. His sharp dark gaze had Gabriel wishing for a little more space to move around. Now that he had Lundin’s attention, though, he almost wished he didn’t.
“Er, anyway. I offered to poke around a bit, but I wasn’t able to track Gordon down, even up at his property. I did find something else, though.”
“What?” Lundin looked up at Gabe as he pulled on his socks, not bothering to hide his impatience. “What is it? Seriously, I have to stop by Elton’s before I head in, so I’d like to leave in this century.”
“Dwayne Perkins. Dead.”
Now, Lundin stopped what he was doing to give him his full attention. “You’re sure? I saw Dwayne and his brother on Tuesday.”
“Bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. Don’t think there’s any coming back from that.”
“I can’t say I’m wracked with grief over Dwayne Perkins’s death, but why are you here this morning telling me this? Dead bodies are more Rizzi’s jurisdiction, go talk to the TCSO.”
The goodbye-and-good-riddance tone to his voice was loud and clear. Too bad he was dealing with Gabriel Karne, who couldn’t give a crap about tones.
