Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

because Daniel contacted us. But why include yourself?”
    Tom sat silently for a moment. “I never told you the whole story of Miami. While you were on the Raven, my wife had become pregnant. We started thinking about leaving Miami. After your return, you bolted and began living your dream sailing around the Caribbean and my investigation stalled. Then, one day, I was part of a drug bust and things went really wrong. One of the bad guys was killed and I was the officer who fired the shots. That incident made our decision easy. As soon as I was cleared by the department of any wrong doing with the shooting, I resigned and we left Miami, ending up in Rye Harbor.”
    “Tom, why didn’t you ever tell me this story before?”
    “You never asked and besides, you were out swashbuckling it around the islands on your boat.”
    “Fair enough. But you still haven’t answered my original question of ‘Why the we '? What does this have to do with Daniel? Why are you part of this, too?”
    Tom paused. Quietly he continued. “Jack, when Daniel turned up dead, memories that I had nearly forgotten began to resurface. You know how they can float in, out, and around, and then one day something happens and click―it all makes sense.”
    “Sort of. Sometimes that happens when I run.”
    “Well, I had that click. That drug dealer I shot in Miami―turns out he was Ravenowicz’s son. I didn’t find out for a long time. The cops in Miami thought that if they kept his identity quiet, they might draw Ravenowicz out. Their hope was that he would seek revenge or maybe make some kind of a mistake, and they’d be able to bust him. It never happened. They kept investigating and he never any mistakes.”
    “Maybe he didn’t know.”
    “Oh, he knew all right; he just remained silent. That’s how cold and careful the man is.”
    Jack just stared at Tom as he processed what he had just been told and tried to see the connections that Tom had made.
    Tom continued, “If he was Daniel’s boss. Then there are several possibilities. One possibility is he gets word from Kurt that Daniel was found and dealt with, and that Kurt recovered whatever Daniel had in his possession. Probably end of story. But now, think about this. What if Daniel was killed before whatever he had was found. I mean you never had any reason to suspect that Daniel left anything on the boat. Did you?”
    “No. He was only on the boat that one time and Max and I were with him the whole time. He didn’t give anything to us.”
    “Exactly. Your boat was trashed after Daniel was killed. That creates a whole new ballgame, which means that you and Max are in danger, and since I am involved, the chance that he will remember my connection to his son’s death grows. If he puts it all together, we are all in deep shit and things will get a whole lot worse before they get better.” He paused to let his words sink in.
    “Will there be anything else? It was Stephen. Jack and Tom looked up at the same time, glanced about, and realized that the tavern was empty.
    “Oh, I’m sorry. No, just the check and we’ll be going.” Jack returned his attention to Tom. “That’s a whole lot of ‘ifs.’ And what if he found what he was looking for when he messed up my boat?”
    “And what if he didn’t? Think about it.”

CHAPTER 53
    HE WAS NO CLOSER to completing his mission now than he was a week ago when he took care of Daniel. The satisfaction he felt from that moment was now a distant memory. Only bitterness remained as he considered his options. Why did the fog have to lift when he was so close? Daniel would have talked, he was sure of it. He hadn’t told his employer yet that Daniel had been taken care of because without the recovered item, the job was only half finished. Kurt knew that his employer cared only about final results, successful final results.
    He remained invisible. He watched and listened, waiting for confirmation that they had it. Then, and only then, would he risk exposure. In the meantime, he was good at preserving his anonymity. Days, he became different characters to blend in with the summer crowds: the birdwatcher, a fisherman, an artist painting by the side of the road, or a photographer looking for that perfect shot. Sometimes he was just a tourist walking the sidewalks or sitting on the small stone beach that was next to Ben’s parking lot, reading a book. Often he would wear headphones, not to listen to music like most, but to monitor the bug