Wreckers' Key A Novel of Suspense

I "We hit the reef so hard, i'm surprised no one was killed," Nestor said. "I keep dreaming about it, you know? Hearing the sound of the hull crunching across the coral and then Kent's screams when his arm broke." He rubbed his hand across his eyes like he was trying to wipe away the vision. "This situation scares me, Seychelle. My whole career's on the line here." I couldn't disagree. When you put a multimillion-dollar yacht on the reef on her maiden voyage, your reputation as a captain is toast. I was there to help with the salvage of the boat, but I wasn't sure what I could do to salvage Nestor's career. Catalina Frias reached across the table, took her husband's hand, and focused her large brown eyes on his face. She didn't say anything for several seconds, but there was a sense of intimacy in that moment that was stronger than if she'd grabbed him and planted a wet one on him. "Hey, we are going to get through this, mi amor, okay?" Her soft voice was accented, but her English was perfect. She squeezed his hand, her other arm resting across the top of the belly that bulged beneath her pretty print maternity top. I was sitting with the two of them at an outdoor table at the Two Friends Patio Restaurant on Front Street. I'd arrived in Key West late the afternoon before on my forty-six-foot aluminum tug Gorda, and when I called Nestor on the VHF, I told him I was too tired to come ashore after a four-day trip down from Lauderdale with only my dog as crew. I just wanted to drop the hook and collapse in my bunk, so we'd agreed to meet in the morning for Sunday brunch. Now here I was, sitting under a lush trellis of bougainvillea pushing scrambled eggs and sausage around my plate, my appetite gone. "Nestor, this is the first time I've taken Gorda this far from home. I wouldn't do this for just anybody, you know." When he smiled that boyish smile so full of gratitude, my heart ached for him. He was in a hell of a spot. "Gracias, amiga. I can't lose this job," he said, the backs of his fingers caressing his wife's belly. "Not now, with the baby coming in just a few weeks." I'd known Nestor much longer than his wife had, and I loved him like a brother. There was a time when maybe that love could have gone another way, but the attraction that might have been had turned into an abiding friendship. He really was one of the good guys. He'd showed up on the docks just before Red died, and afterward, when I started running Gorda on my own and several of the captains were bad-mouthing the only female captain in the towing business, he always stood up for me. I'd watched him work his way up the waterfront, going from being a captain on the Water Taxi to running the charter fishing boat My Way, until now, finally, he'd gotten his big break about four months ago, as the captain of a luxury power yacht. The Power Play was a newly commissioned Sunseeker 94 owned by a local resident millionaire, Ted Berger. Berger had made his money in dot-com-related businesses, and when he'd sold out, he'd bought several South Florida TV stations and sports teams. "Do you think Berger's going to can you?" "I don't know. Maybe. He hasn't said anything yet. Seychelle, this was the first passage I'd made as captain. Other than a couple of sea trials to work on the engines, we hadn't really taken her out yet. He told me when he hired me to commission the yacht that he wanted her down here in Key West for Race Week, but then he decided to install new flat-screen TVs in allKling, Christine is the author of 'Wreckers' Key A Novel of Suspense', published 2007 under ISBN 9780345479051 and ISBN 034547905X.