Cloudy with a chance of.., p.31
Wild Mermaid: A Coastal Caribbean Adventure (Tyson Wild Thriller Book 54), page 31
WILD MERMAID
TYSON WILD BOOK FIFTY FOUR
TRIPP ELLIS
CONTENTS
Welcome
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Author’s Note
Tyson Wild
Connect With Me
Copyright © 2023 by Tripp Ellis
All rights reserved. Worldwide.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents, except for incidental references to public figures, products, or services, are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental, and not intended to refer to any living person or to disparage any company’s products or services. All characters engaging in sexual activity are above the age of consent.
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1
We touched down in Coconut Key with a few less passengers than we had when we started. Now it was just JD and me.
We stopped in Singapore, changed planes, flew to Doha and refueled, then made the rest of the journey home. JD and I were both ready for a little downtime, but we weren’t going to get any.
A black Lincoln town car picked us up from the FBO and took us back to the marina at Diver Down. Jack tipped the driver, and we hustled down the dock to the Avventura. There wasn’t any luggage to unload. This hadn’t been your average trip across the globe.
We crossed the passerelle to the aft deck, and I unlocked the sliding glass door to the salon. The boat was quiet as we stepped aboard. Teagan had taken the animals during our adventure, and the vessel had an unnatural stillness.
It was good to be home, but it felt like something was missing.
Someone.
I had grown fond of Katerina and her spunky ways.
I took a shower and washed two days of world traveling and a hell of a rescue mission away. Afterward, I got dressed, holstered my pistol for an appendix carry, then joined JD in the galley. We whipped up a couple sandwiches, chowed down, then hustled out of the superyacht.
No rest for the weary.
Jack’s classic Porsche was still in the shop, so we hopped into the 1970 Plum Crazy Purple Barracuda, affectionately dubbed the Devastator. Jack twisted the ignition, and the 707 hp HEMI engine rumbled to life. With bullet-resistant glass and reinforced door panels, the thing was a tank.
We cruised across the island to the Harbor Heights Apartments on the edge of Jamaica Village. It wasn’t the greatest part of town. A far cry from the upscale neighborhood of the Platinum Dunes or Stingray Bay. The streets weren’t lined with Range Rovers, Maseratis, or Lamborghinis. You'd never see a dented fender, mismatched quarter panels, or oxidized paint among the McMansions.
Here, it was commonplace.
Jack pulled to the curb and found a place to park. We hopped out and made our way up the walkway to the two-story brown cinderblock building. A few withered palm trees presided overhead, and the yard was in need of a good edging. There wasn't much in the way of shrubs. It was a bland, bleak complex, but still exorbitant for what it was. Everything on the island would make your eyes water. Though there were a lot of subsidies available.
We climbed the steps and strolled the walkway to A204. The rectangular building housed eight units—four up, four down. They resembled army barracks, and there were three of them on the lot. It was only a matter of time before they got bulldozed for high-rise condos.
You were taking your life in your hands around here at night. We’d been mugged once before, not far from here. Then again, it had gotten pretty bad everywhere. Criminals got more brazen every day.
We knocked on the door.
The sound of a TV inside filtered through.
A moment later, a timid voice asked through the door, "Who is it?"
I flashed my badge to the peephole. "Deputies Wild and Donovan with Coconut County."
First the chain, then the deadbolt, unlatched. The door creaked as a young woman pulled it open with concerned brown eyes. Attractive eyes. Waves of chocolate brown hair dangled at her shoulders. She had elegant features and a petite little frame. The sheriff wasn't lying when he said she was good-looking. He had reminded me to "Keep it professional” before he sent us over here.
Ashley Young glanced around, then invited us in. Once we stepped inside, she gave another cautious look before closing the door and latching the deadbolt behind us. After what she'd been through, I couldn't blame her for being paranoid.
This was the kind of neighborhood where residents didn't talk to cops. And if they did, word traveled fast. Reprisals were common. Most people tended to keep their heads down and their mouths shut. It wasn’t worth the risk.
"Thank you for coming," she said as she escorted us down the foyer into the living room.
Her young son sat on the couch, watching television. He was all of 10 years old with a baby face, big blue eyes, and spiky light brown hair. A little small for his age.
"Cody, can you say hello to Deputies Wild and Donovan?"
We smiled and waved, and the boy gave us a curious look, breaking away from his program. His brow wrinkled. "You two don't look like cops."
I chuckled. "We get that a lot."
JD’s long blond hair, loud Hawaiian shirt, and checkered Vans weren’t exactly regulation for a Coconut County deputy.
"We’re a special crimes unit," Jack said, uttering one of his favorite phrases.
“Let’s see your badge.”
I displayed the shiny gold thing and stepped toward the couch.
Cody examined it carefully. “Cool.”
The apartment was small but well-maintained. It felt homey and comfortable. It was full of stylish cheap Swedish furniture and budget art. There was a small 40-inch flatscreen display atop the entertainment center that housed the latest gaming console. Cody's BMX bike rested against the far wall. There was a small kitchen with a gas stove, microwave, small refrigerator, and a bar that opened to the living room.
"The sheriff gave me a brief overview of the situation," I said. "But I'd like to get it firsthand from you."
Ashley nodded and swallowed, still rattled by the whole event.
She grabbed a piece of paper from the bar counter and handed it to me. "This was on my door."
I unfolded the note and took a look at it.
"There's no mistaking it,” she said in a hushed tone. “That's a threat."
"I'd say so," I replied.
"They know where we live. Can anything be done about this?”
“Did you see who left the note?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“What about your neighbors?”
Ashley scoffed. "Nobody wants to get involved."
"I know this is uncomfortable, but I need Cody to tell me exactly what he saw."
2
“Jesse started it," Cody said. "He's always the one to start it."
“A bully, huh?” I said.
Cody nodded. "Him and Terry were picking on Adam. Shoving him around. Then they started punching him. Adam started punching back. I guess Jesse and Terry didn't expect that. Adam’s not very big. But he beat the crap out of them.”
"Cody!” his mother admonished.
Cody shrugged. "Well, he did. He whooped them good."
"Both of them at the same time?" I asked.
Cody nodded. "He knows karate. I want to take karate. Mom, can I take karate?”
"We’ll discuss it."
"Then what happened?" I asked.
“Jesse and Terry were on the ground. Adam grabbed his backpack and walked away. Jesse got up, pul led out a knife, and ran behind Adam and stabbed him in the back a bunch of times."
Ashley winced, and I cringed.
"You sure that's what happened?" I said.
Cody nodded. "There was blood everywhere. Adam fell down. That's when Jesse saw me. I took off running. They chased after me."
"How’d you get away?"
“I crawled into a drainpipe where they couldn’t fit. I stayed there for a long time until they finally left."
Ashley was in tears, listening to the story. She’d heard it before, but it didn't have any less effect on her.
Cody took it all in stride.
I suspected he was compartmentalizing the trauma. He acted like it was just something that happened. An everyday occurrence. But no child should have to witness that.
“He was gone for hours,” Ashely said. “I was worried sick. I couldn’t get through on his phone. The battery had died.” She gave him a stern gaze. “That’s why you need to keep it charged and not drain the battery.”
He frowned at her.
"I guess there are advantages to being small,” I said.
Cody shrugged. "I guess. One day, I’m going to be big like you.”
I chuckled. “Enjoy being little while you can.”
He wasn’t so sure. If he could snap his fingers, he’d be big this instant.
"How do you know these kids?" I asked.
"I go to school with them."
"He's in advanced classes,” Ashley said. “A year ahead of his age."
"A little brainiac," I said.
Cody shrugged, feigning modesty. Then concern filled the young boy’s eyes. “Do you know what happened to Adam?"
"He's in the hospital."
"Is he gonna make it?"
"I don't know. I hope so."
Cody's eyes glistened. "He was always cool to me. I hope he doesn't die."
"I hope so too."
"What happens now?" Ashley asked.
"Jesse Yates and Terry Roswell have been picked up. They are in a juvenile detention facility. Due to the severity of the crime, it's possible they may both be charged as adults."
Jesse Yates was one of those kids that was 14 going on 27. He was 5’11” with shaggy dark hair, sad brown eyes, and a protruding underbite. He flunked the 8th grade and had to repeat it. He towered over all the other kids his age and used that to his advantage. He probably could have been a hell of a ballplayer if he’d kept his nose clean, but his focus was the streets.
I'd taken a brief look at his history during our flight back to the States. The juvenile had stolen a car, assaulted multiple people, and had been busted for possession of a controlled substance. Each time, he'd gotten a slap on the wrist. Nobody wanted to ruin the kid’s future, but Jesse had done a good job of that all on his own.
His best friend, Terry Roswell, was a 14-year-old lanky blond with spiky hair. The punk didn't have higher aspirations, either. The two of them were a bad combination.
It always broke my heart to see kids that young go off in a bad direction.
I said to Cody, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to your mom for a moment."
He nodded, and we stepped back toward the kitchen.
"How credible do you think that threat is?” Ashley asked in a hushed tone.
"I would take every threat as credible."
“Who do you think is responsible?"
“According to his file, Jesse has an older brother named Kyle,” I said. "He’s 17 and has had a few run-ins with the law. But he hasn't killed anybody yet. I think he’s trying to intimidate you, sticking up for his little brother. Cody is the only witness to the crime. Without his testimony, the case falls apart. When deputies picked up Jesse, they couldn't find the weapon. I'm sure he tossed it into a dumpster or threw it in a ditch somewhere. We’ll keep looking."
"What if we choose to not testify?" Ashley asked with hesitation.
"Nobody else is willing to come forward. Jesse might walk away from all this. He could hurt somebody else.”
Ashley cringed. "We've been through so much," she said, her eyes misting again. "We don't need this. I'm trying to start over, and I know it's not much,” she said, motioning to the surroundings, “but it's something."
There was a story behind her eyes. I didn’t push. I figured it would come out in time.
"I'll have a talk with Jesse's family,” I said. “Witness intimidation is a serious offense. I’ll give the note to the lab. With any luck, maybe they can pull a print and we can connect it to Jesse's brother, Kyle.”
Ashley nodded, uncertain.
"In the meantime, I think we should temporarily relocate you."
"Where?"
"Do you have anywhere to go? Anybody you could stay with?"
"Not locally." Her face tensed. "I don't want to go into WITSEC.”
She was referring to the federal Witness Security Program, commonly known as witness protection.
“I know how difficult it is for those people,” she continued. “They can't ever speak to their family again. It's no way for a child to grow up. Plus, it totally screws up your existence. You become a nonperson. You don't have a birth certificate. Those people have all kinds of problems trying to prove their identity."
She knew a lot about the program.
“I’m not talking about WITSEC or new identities,” I said. “But we can put you up in a hotel for a little while until we sort this thing out. It would be safer. You won’t be able to contact anybody while you're in hiding. No using your cell phone. No calling relatives or friends. Strictly no contact.”
"So, you want us to hide in a hotel? For how long?"
"I don't know."
“A trial could take months, even years,” she exclaimed, terrified by the thought.
"Would you rather stay here?" I said dryly.
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I can’t afford a hotel."
"Don't worry about that."
"What do you mean, don't worry about that? Even the fleabags on this island are out of my price range. This whole island is out of my price range, but somehow I've been making it up to this point."
"I'll take care of it."
She lifted a surprised eyebrow. "For how long? A day? Two? A month?"
"As long as necessary."
Her eyes narrowed at me. "You mean the county's gonna pay for that?"
"Maybe, maybe not."
“So, this is coming out of your pocket?”
I shrugged.
She tried to put the pieces together. "What are you? On the take? How can you afford that on a cop’s salary?"
"We're volunteers," JD said with a smile.
Now she was really curious. "What about my job? What about Cody’s school?"
"Take a few sick days,” I said. “I’ll arrange something with the school and have Cody’s homework sent over. I can arrange for a tutor so he won't fall behind. Think of it as a temporary stop until you figure out your next move."
Ashley thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "I know I don't want to stay here tonight. I'm ready to just disappear and never come back. This is scary."
"I know. I'm sorry you have to deal with this." I paused. "Start getting your things together."
"Where will you take us?"
3
I slipped the key card into the slot, and the light flashed green. I pushed it open, flipped on the light, and advanced down the foyer into the room. I cleared the area and swept both bedrooms. I didn't expect to find anything, but it was good security protocol.
