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datatime: 2022-10-06 03:26:34 Author:NDKJOWPH

As midnight approached, the other men stopped pretending to fish and concentrated on the road. Joe Winder realized that he was stranded on the jetty with two goons who probably were waiting to ambush him. Worse, they stood squarely between Winder and the relative safety of the island. The most obvious means of escape would be jumping into Card Sound; while exceptionally dramatic, such a dive would prove both stupid and futile. The bay was shallow and provided no cover; if the goons had guns, they could simply shoot him like a turtle.

As midnight approached, the other men stopped pretending to fish and concentrated on the road. Joe Winder realized that he was stranded on the jetty with two goons who probably were waiting to ambush him. Worse, they stood squarely between Winder and the relative safety of the island. The most obvious means of escape would be jumping into Card Sound; while exceptionally dramatic, such a dive would prove both stupid and futile. The bay was shallow and provided no cover; if the goons had guns, they could simply shoot him like a turtle.

Molly's face crinkled in thought.That'd be awfully hard to swallow, that an old retired woman like myself would get involved in such a distasteful crime. I suppose the FBI would have to decide whom to believe-two young fellows with your extensive criminal pasts, or an older woman like myself who's never even had a parking ticket.

How nice, said Bud Schwartz, his voice cold.

Not much was biting under the bridge. Effortlessly Winder cast the same pink wiggle-jig he'd been using on the bonefish flats. He let it sink into the fringe of the sea grass, then reeled in slowly, bouncing the lure with the tip of his rod. In this fashion he picked up a couple of blue runners and a large spiny pinfish, which he tossed back. The other fishermen were using dead shrimp with similar unexciting results. By eleven most of them had packed up their buckets and rods and gone home, leaving the jetty deserted except for Joe Winder and two other diehards.

No matter, said Molly, brightening,because as of tonight, you're our newest members. Congratulations, gentlemen

Oh, don't worry, Molly said.I wouldn't dream of saying anything to the authorities.

Restlessly Danny Pogue squeezed a pimple on his neck.Is it like a nature club? he said.Do we get T-shirts and stuff?

Oh, don't worry, Molly said.I wouldn't dream of saying anything to the authorities.

Molly's face crinkled in thought.That'd be awfully hard to swallow, that an old retired woman like myself would get involved in such a distasteful crime. I suppose the FBI would have to decide whom to believe-two young fellows with your extensive criminal pasts, or an older woman like myself who's never even had a parking ticket.

The other men stood side by side, conversing quietly in Spanish. As Joe Winder watched them more closely, it seemed that the men were doing more serious talking than fishing. They were using Cuban yo-yo rigs, twirling the lines overhead and launching the baits with a loud plop into the water. Once in a while they'd pull in the lines and cast out again, usually without even checking the hooks.

One of the men was a husky no-neck in long canvas pants. The other was short and wiry, and as dark as coffee. Both wore baseball caps and light jackets, which was odd, considering the heat. Every few minutes a pair of headlights would appear down Card Sound Road, and Joe Winder would check to see if the car stopped at the foot of the bridge. After a while, he noticed that the two other fishermen were doing the same. This was not a good sign.

Molly nodded.That's right. Somehow we must redeem ourselves.

Restlessly Danny Pogue squeezed a pimple on his neck.Is it like a nature club? he said.Do we get T-shirts and stuff?

And this condo association-what's she so worried about?

No matter, said Molly, brightening,because as of tonight, you're our newest members. Congratulations, gentlemen

No, said Bud Schwartz,can't say that I have. Danny Pogue said he'd never heard of them, either.

How nice, said Bud Schwartz, his voice cold.

Joe Winder's only hope was that they wouldn't recognize him in the dark with his hair hacked off. It was a gray overcast night, and he was doing a creditable impersonation of a preoccupied angler. Most likely the goons would be expecting him at twelve sharp, some dumb shmuck hollering Koocher's name under the bridge.

One of the men was a husky no-neck in long canvas pants. The other was short and wiry, and as dark as coffee. Both wore baseball caps and light jackets, which was odd, considering the heat. Every few minutes a pair of headlights would appear down Card Sound Road, and Joe Winder would check to see if the car stopped at the foot of the bridge. After a while, he noticed that the two other fishermen were doing the same. This was not a good sign.

Joe Winder's only hope was that they wouldn't recognize him in the dark with his hair hacked off. It was a gray overcast night, and he was doing a creditable impersonation of a preoccupied angler. Most likely the goons would be expecting him at twelve sharp, some dumb shmuck hollering Koocher's name under the bridge.

Bud Schwartz sighed. He wondered what crazy lie she'd told the rent-a-cop about their gunshot wounds.

Restlessly Danny Pogue squeezed a pimple on his neck.Is it like a nature club? he said.Do we get T-shirts and stuff?

Molly nodded.That's right. Somehow we must redeem ourselves.

Bud Schwartz stretched out on the sofa, closed his eyes and smiled in resignation.You're a piece a work, he said to Molly McNamara.I gotta admit.

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